Shadow of a Doubt
by ObsessivelyOdd
Summary: SEQUEL to Past of Shadows. K-Unit have rescued Alex, but there is still a long way to go to fix him. With a new threat lurking in the shadows, can they piece Alex back together? Or will the doubts of others tear them all apart?
1. Prologue

_**PLEASE READ: This is both a SEQUEL and a REPOST. As the plot of my other story, Past of Shadows had changed completely from the summary, I decided to repost Part 2 as a different story. I suggest you read Past of Shadows before this!**_

_**A/N: So I'm back! Unfortunately, I don't have the entire second part written, as I had planned to, but I have a good ten chapters lined up, so hopefully I should be able to keep posting regularly now. Anyways, did you all miss me? Be honest!**_

_**Oh... no one did. *sigh* fine then. Here's your chapter. I know you missed that!**_

_**WARNINGS: Minor violence**_

_**DISCLAIMER: You know, I would have saved myself a lot of effort if I had simply put this in the first chapter. Anyways, as per usual, absolutely nothing belongs to me.**_

-o-O-o-

Yuri let himself into the flat. He was understandably upset. He'd been in hospital and despite his promise, Greg hadn't visited him in the last three days. Of course, he'd never say that to Greg; he'd make a joke out of it and Greg would probably see straight through it and apologise and then everything would go back to normal. That was the way it had always been between them. And besides, he knew Greg would have a good reason for not visiting him.

It didn't occur to him to be nervous until he entered the flat to find Greg's things gone.

He frowned slightly, then shrugged. He'd go over to Greg's work tomorrow. Surely the blond would be there.

He sighed and sank down on the sofa. It was just such a relief to be out of the hospital. He'd figure out the mystery of his missing flatmate tomorrow.

He didn't even realise he drifted off to sleep until a hand grabbed the front of his t-shirt and hauled him to his feet. He found himself standing face to face with his landlord.

"Yuri," said the man. His voice was calm, but Yuri could see anger in his eyes. "I see you're out of hospital."

Yuri nodded slightly, unsure how the landlord knew he was in hospital in the first place.

"Where's Greg?" snapped the man.

Yuri frowned. "I don't know. I only just got back this afternoon. Why?"

"He owes me rather a lot of money."

"How much?" asked Yuri, in trepidation.

"The rent from last month after the two of you were robbed and the ten grand he lost me while trying to pay it off," hissed the man.

Yuri paled. They had been robbed? Shit, no wonder Greg wasn't here. He hoped he was ok.

"Oh, don't worry," said the landlord, misinterpreting the look of fear on Yuri's face. "I'm not interested in you. Greg is going to pay it back if it kills him. I _will_ get what I want." He paused and looked thoughtful for a moment. "I'm actually surprised he's not here. After the beating I gave him last time, I'd have thought the cocky brat wouldn't be able to leave the flat for a few days at least."

Yuri's eyes widened and he clenched his fists in anger.

The man laughed, noticing the fists. "Don't even think about it. Greg didn't give me much trouble;" – a lie, though Yuri didn't know it – "What makes you think that you would?"

On the last word he shoved Yuri back and the boy landed back on the sofa with a thud.

"When you see him," said the landlord as he turned to leave. "Tell him he _will_ pay up. I always get what I want."

-o-O-o-

_**So what did you think? Hope you liked it. BTW, if there are any lose ends, you could mention them in your review, I think I've got them all listed, if not dealt with, but just wanted to check.**_

_**Of course, even if there aren't any, review anyway! Come on, feed the hungry author!**_


	2. Chapter 1

_**A/N: So, because I am apparently very bad at updating without a schedule, I'll be updating this fic on a WEDNESDAY. Or thereabouts. (May sometimes be tues evening, or first thing Thursday, I'm not making any promises, but I'm going to try my best, ok?).**_

_**Quick reminder of other days, in case any of you are reading the other fics – I'm updating From Failing Hands on a Monday, and I'll post something most Fridays, though I'm not sure what yet. (Til death do us part will most likely feature, as will one-shots etc.)**_

_**Also... I'm going to start posting my poetry on Livejournal under this name. No, you're not allowed to make fun of me, but concrit it welcome, please feel free to go read it!**_

_**Oh, and there's a poll on my profile as well. It's about what I should post next. 26 people have taken part so far (Thank you to you all) and the poll will close when 50 people have given an answer. (Or as soon as I realise it's gone over 50.)**_

_**Now, onto the chapter. (Sorry about the AN of Doom.)**_

_**WARNINGS: Swearing.**_

_**DISCLAIMER: I may dream of being an author, but unfortunately I'll never be able to lay claim to Alex Rider. That piece of genius belongs to Anthony Horowitz.**_

-o-O-o-

Alex was in the shower. He'd been in there for two hours now and Ben was fairly sure that the hot water would have run out a while ago. Every so often, he would hear frantic sobs, but otherwise the flat was silent.

Ben sighed and knocked on the door. As the latest set of whimpers fell silent, he spoke.

"You can't stay in there forever, Alex," he said, softly.

"Just watch me," snarled a voice, barely recognisable as the teen they had re-met only a few days ago.

"Hiding won't make your problems go away," warned Ben, wishing he didn't have to do this.

"I... I know," said Alex through the door, his voice quieter and less hostile.

"Why don't you come out?" suggested Ben. "Then I can see to your wrists and re-bandage your shoulder."

The water turned off and Ben decided to take this as agreement.

"There are some clean clothes outside the door," he said, before retreating to the living room.

Ten minutes later, Alex emerged. His hair was still slightly damp, obviously only roughly towel dried and the bruises he received from his landlord stood out darkly against his pale skin. He looked half frozen from the cold water and, before anything else, Fox forced a cup of tea into his hands and made him drink it. Only when some colour has returned to the teen's face did Ben pull the first aid kit forward.

"May I touch your wrists, Alex?" he asked, knowing exactly how edgy Alex would be about physical contact. But Alex surprised him by simply rolling his eyes in disbelief and giving a curt nod. Apparently he had steeled himself to this before he came out.

Still, he flinched when Ben touched them, though whether this was from the physical contact or the pain of having his wounds handled, Ben couldn't decipher.

After that, Alex gave no reaction to Ben's ministrations apart from a soft hiss as the antiseptic was applied. That was perfectly understandable. Antiseptic does, and always will, sting like a bitch.

Finally, Ben wrapped them in swathes of soft white bandages, secured them with medical tape and slipped two tubey-grips over the dressings to cover any flaws in his first aid. Ben would have been happier if Snake had done this, but Alex knew Ben better, having worked with him several times and he thought that Alex might be more comfortable around him.

He sighed as Alex tugged his sleeves down over the bandages.

"Alex, I'm going to have to ask you to take off your shirt: I need to wrap your shoulder."

Alex's reaction was almost unnoticeable, a single ripple of stiffness that passed up his spine and added about an inch to his height, but Ben sighed with relief as Alex reluctantly pulled off the top, allowing Ben to wrap the shoulder.

"It's getting better," he commented as he gently probed the now-bandaged area. "Does it still hurt as much?"

Alex shook his head jerkily and hastily pulled on his shirt.

"Not so much," he admitted once he was safely clothed again. "Just occasionally when I knock or jar it."

"That's to be expected, I guess," said Ben. "Come on, let's get some food inside you, and then I think you probably need rest."

It was a bit patronising, he knew, but his first priority at the moment was to see Alex healthy and happy again and he would do everything he could to achieve those aims.

-o-O-o-

That night he was awoken by screams from next door. Instantly alert, he leapt out of bed and into the corridor. He knocked on the door to his spare room.

"Alex?" he called. There was no answer, only more screams.

Desperately, Ben went to open the door, only to be met with the solid refusal of the metal to turn.

It was locked.

He swore and hammered on the door again. Still, Alex didn't wake and still the screams didn't stop.

Left with no choice, he sank down with his back against the door and waited.

Two hours later the screaming stopped abruptly and Ben slipped back into his room, just in time to avoid Alex as he moved to the bathroom. The teen was pale and sweaty and didn't even notice Ben looking at him from the doorway. When the shower turned on, he sighed and went back to bed. He didn't know what he could do to help, but he was determined to try.

-o-O-o-

The next morning, he called Wolf and explained the situation to him.

"Nightmares?" said Wolf, when he was told. "Can't say I blame him. What are you going to do?"

"I have no idea," admitted Ben. "I mean, I don't want to bring them up until he does, and I don't want to tell him to stop locking the door because... well, anything to help him feel safe, you know?"

Wolf hummed his agreement. He and the others had agreed to stay away for that very reason. They had no way of knowing what Cub's reaction would be to them, especially Wolf. On the one hand, seeing the man he had taken as his lover could help Cub, on the other, anything even remotely connected to sex could trigger a panic attack that would shatter any progress they had made.

At the moment, he was responding to Ben and they had agreed to leave it at that for now. They could change strategies if this one stopped working, but they weren't going to take unnecessary risks, or try to fix a system that wasn't broken.

"Hey," said Wolf after a moment. "What about that roommate of his? They were on the streets together and trusted each other enough to live together – which for Cub is no small thing."

Ben frowned thoughtfully.

"I've nowhere for him to sleep," he warned.

"He'd do most good if he was sharing with Alex anyway," Wolf pointed out. "I'll go to his flat and talk to him. He must be out of hospital by now."

"Ok," said Ben. "I'm not sure I'm happy about another teenager staying near Alex's former landlord anyway."

He heard soft footsteps behind him.

"I've got to go," he said.

"Ok," said Wolf. "I'll bring the kid around in a few hours, ok?"

Ben grunted his agreement and hung up. Turning around, he found Alex regarding him curiously.

"Who was that?" asked the blond.

"Wolf," said Ben. "He wanted to remind me of a loose end we haven't tied up yet."

Alex tilted his head curiously, but Ben didn't elaborate. Alex would find out soon enough and at the moment, he was more concerned about making sure the teen ate.

Again, he realised his propensity to treat Alex as a little kid was patronising, and probably more than a little demeaning, but he had heard too many stories of rape victims giving up on life and refusing to do anything necessary to survive. Alex didn't seem inclined to that at the moment, but Ben didn't want to give him any opportunity to slip into the habit.

Alex had _not_ survived everything the world of espionage had thrown at him just to give up because of one demented assassin with an obsession. Ben would see to that.

-o-O-o-

_**A/N: I love you all, because I know you're all going to review, aren't you? Don't make me hold Alex hostage!**_


	3. Chapter 2

_**A/N: Ok this update is going to be really quick because I'm supposed to be making my brother's birthday cake!**_

_**DISCLAIMER: Nothing you recognise belongs to me!**_

_**WARNINGS: Language. After effects of rape.**_

* * *

For so long, he had been living a hand-to-mouth existence, working wherever possible to get more cash that it seemed strange to have spare time and he was at a loss with what to do with it. In the end, he settled for reading a book.

It seemed almost too normal, and that was really the worst part. Worse than K-Unit knowing what had happened, worse than the nightmares or flashbacks, worse than flinching whenever someone came too close, was how easy it was to carry on as if nothing had happened. This should be tearing his life apart; he shouldn't be able to act so normally, as if the memory of Yassen wasn't burnt into every inch of his skin.

He hated himself for acting as if it wasn't a big deal.

But he had been dealing with nightmares for years now and knew they wouldn't affect his life too much. There had been no lasting damage and he knew that it could have been a lot worse. He didn't even have to go to hospital, though Ben had tried in vain to persuade him otherwise.

He was simply grateful that he hadn't been hurt worse... and that was far too close to the mind set of Yassen's pet to be comfortable.

He scowled and closed the book. He couldn't concentrate.

He _hated_ that he wasn't in control of himself, even as he wished that his control had been ripped away. Surely it'd be better if it had driven him insane rather than this mediocre reaction. He shouldn't be able to be glad it hadn't been worse, he should be screaming and crying. _It should have destroyed his life._

He hated that it didn't hurt more.

* * *

Ben frowned as he glanced over at Alex through the kitchen door. He had given up reading about ten minutes ago, and Ben hadn't seen a page turn for about ten minutes before that. Determined not to let Alex mope, he crossed to where the boxes from MI6 – still not unpacked – were stacked.

Two minutes later he was fiddling, unsuccessfully, with the TV.

"What _are_ you doing?" asked Alex, curiously.

"I'm trying," said Ben through gritted teeth. "To work out how your bloody PS3 fits into the TV."

Alex rolled his eyes and crossed cautiously to Ben's side. The agent carefully hid his smile and turned a confused face to the teen. Thirty seconds later, Alex had hooked up the games console and retreated to the couch.

"Great!" exclaimed Ben. "Now you can help me on Assasssin's Creed. I've never been able to play it. Too many combinations."

At first it was almost painfully awkward, but soon Alex – completely exasperated by Ben's abysmal performance – couldn't help but help the failing agent and soon both of them were completely absorbed in the game.

They only stopped when the doorbell rang and Ben had to go and answer it – leaving Alex to quickly defeat the enemy Ben had spent the last ten minutes fighting.

He looked up when he heard three sets of footsteps approaching.

Ben was there, as was Wolf, though he was hanging back, for which Alex was grateful. He needed to talk to the man, but he couldn't do it yet. He wasn't ready.

And that meant the third was...

"Yuri?" he exclaimed, a real grin breaking out on his face for the first time since he had been taken. "What are you doing here?"

"Wolf came and got me," said Yuri. "Something about my landlord being a complete bastard and not wanting to leave a friend of yours there. So I'm staying with you! Aren't you happy?"

Alex visibly froze. K-Unit and Yuri would be... not good.

"Oh, come on, Greg, I promise I'll behave," grinned Yuri and Alex rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, right. Like I'd ever believe that," he snarked.

Yuri was completely unrepentant.

"Wait... Greg?" Alex said closing his eyes.

"Erm... yeah... your name's Greg," said Yuri, in a let's-not-excite-the-imbecile tone.

"Shit," murmured Alex. "Could you give us a minute or two alone?" he asked Ben and James. Ben nodded and steered Wolf through to the kitchen.

"So what's this about?" asked Yuri, curiously after the door closed behind them.

"I remembered who I was – am."

"Oh, and who's that? The final descendant of Princess Anastasia?"

Alex grinned, but it quickly slipped off his face.

"My name's Alex – Alex Rider. My parents died when I was young and my uncle raised me. He died when I was fourteen and my housekeeper – she came over to study here and moved in when I was about seven – looked after me for a year until she died as well."

He broke off. It was still painful to talk about that.

"Well, shit," said Yuri.

"So eloquent," said Alex, sarcastically.

"No, really, I'm sorry, man."

Alex sighed. "Thanks. I... I work for MI6. I shouldn't be telling you this, really, but you deserve to know. I met Ben and James while I was training with the SAS along with Snake and Eagle who you haven't met yet."

"It sounds far fetched... and yet I can see where they're coming from, hiring you," said Yuri.

Alex smiled slightly.

"So do I call you Greg or Alex then?" he asked, tilting his head to one side.

"Erm, Alex I guess..." said Alex, unsure.

"Well, it's your name," said Ben from the doorway. "You know Blunt isn't going to be happy you told him."

"Meh," shrugged Alex. "What's he going to do, fire me? That'd be a bloody miracle."

"Point taken," said Ben.

"And I'm sure you don't plan to go off an immediately tell on me, do you Ben?" asked Alex.

Ben sighed. "No, I guess I don't," he admitted. "Come on, Yuri, we need to sort out where you're going to sleep."

Obediently, Yuri followed the older man out of the room, leaving Wolf and Alex alone.

"Alex," began Wolf, taking a step forward and raising his hand.

"Don't," said Alex moving back. "I... I can't... not yet."

"I understand," said Wolf, letting his arm drop. Honestly, he did - if he had been through what Alex had he doubted he would be holding up nearly as well – but that didn't stop it from hurting. He'd known that what he had with Alex probably wasn't forever, but for it to be ended by something like _this_ was almost unbearable. For a moment, they just stood, staring at one another.

And then Ben and Yuri were back, Yuri chattering about how much nicer this place was, breaking the awkward moment between the two former lovers.

If Alex noticed the slightly dark edge to Yuri's meaningless chatter, or the glances that were sent his way every few seconds, he didn't comment on it.

* * *

_**REVIEW!**_


	4. Chapter 3

_**A/N: ERm... Hi guys... and girls I suppose. I'm feeling incredibly sheepish at the moment. I should have updated this... a week and a half ago. And I really don't have a reason why I didn't. I simply didn't because... well, if I had something to go there, I'd have had a reason, wouldn't I?**_

_**Anyways, you have reachforthesky and mysteryabandonedsubwayperson to thank for this, Sky for telling me that (s)he keeps checking every Wednesday, and Myst for telling me that (s)he ws worried and wondering if I was severely injured and/or dead.**_

_**Oops.**_

_**So yeah, thanks guys! This chapters dedicated to you!**_

_**PS. I know I haven't quite finished replying to all the reviews, I am working on it, I promise you. And next week I'll be getting back on track, I promise. (With the possible exception of FFH on Monday as I have no time to write for it between now and then.)**_

_**

* * *

**_

They'd pulled an old camp bed out for Yuri to sleep on that night – deciding to go shopping tomorrow to get a more permanent bed for the teen. Ben thought it'd be good for Alex to get out of the house, though he hadn't told him that.

For tonight, though, Yuri was squashed between Alex's bed and the wall, on a camp bed that threatened to swallow him whole if he shifted so much as an inch during the night. Privately, both boys were wondering how they were going to fit another bed in and Alex had realised that they'd have to sell the double and get two singles in its place. He didn't really mind: he didn't move around a lot unless he was having a nightmare.

Speaking of which, how was he going to prevent Yuri from finding out about them? He wasn't naive enough to believe that he would be given a break tonight, despite being exhausted from the night previously.

There was nothing for it - he'd have to stay awake.

It didn't surprise him that, while uncomfortable around Ben and even more so around K-Unit, he wasn't at all uncomfortable around Yuri. Yuri was like a brother to him. They'd covered each other's backs too many times to feel anything else.

He rolled on his side and watched Yuri's sleeping form, until the darkness claimed him.

* * *

Yuri was woken by a soft whimper. Silently, he turned over to look towards the bed. Ben had told him what had happened to Gr- Alex, but he had had trouble believing it. The blond had always been able to look after himself. In places where even Yuri trod carefully, Greg – Alex – had walked with his head held high and a sneer on his lips. The thought of someone forcing his friend to surrender like that was... horrific. He hadn't believed it because he didn't want to.

He believed now.

The sight of Alex with his limbs locked as he jerked on the bed was enough to convince everyone. The whimpers, spat out through clenched teeth, only drew attention to the twisted grimace of pain on his face.

Quietly, Yuri knelt up on his bed and leaned over the young spy.

"Alex?" he whispered and the boy jerked violently, again.

"Alex, wake up," he said, reaching out a hand to shake his shoulder gently. He'd only got half way there when a hand shot out to grip his wrist.

Alex's eyelashes fluttered.

"Yuri?" he said, sleepily, sitting up.

"You were having a nightmare," said Yuri.

Alex winced. "I didn't want you to know," he murmured, quietly.

"You're too bloody private for your own good," muttered Yuri, irritated.

There was a pause as Alex released Yuri's wrist and the boy rubbed some life back into it.

"Do you want to talk about it?" asked Yuri, climbing up to sit beside Alex's knees in the dark. The blond shook his head.

There was another silence and Alex drew his knees protectively up to his chest.

"Ben told me what happened," said Yuri, quietly.

Alex flinched.

"How do you do it?" he asked, eventually. "All those men... at best strangers... men who... who..."

Yuri sighed. "It's completely different. For a start, I wasn't forced into it – I had some choice. And I grew up with it. Sex and emotion have never been linked for me the way they were for you. I learnt to enjoy the physical sensation for its own sake entirely."

He sighed and looked at the blond. "It'll be ok, you know? Eventually."

"Ok?" laughed Alex, bitterly. "How could it ever be ok? I tried to commit _suicide_."

"S-suicide?" stammered Yuri. "When? Why?"

"That accident that made me lose my memory? Well, it wasn't an accident. I stepped off the top of a building. I just couldn't take it anymore. I couldn't even try to escape and I was terrified of what I'd become. I... I just stepped away from him and I fell."

Yuri didn't say anything. He didn't know what to say. What _could_ you say when your best friend told you they were suicidal? And yet... it didn't sound like he wanted to die, only escape.

He drew a deep breath.

"Did you want to die?"

"What?" asked Alex, raising his head in shock. "I jumped off the top of the building – what do you think?"

"Did you really want to die? Or did you simply want to escape?"

"It came down to the same thing," said Alex, quietly.

"Motivation counts," Yuri pointed out. "Just answer the question."

"I- I don't think so," said Alex eventually. "I just couldn't see another way out. It was the only way to escape."

"Well, then," said Yuri, "I don't blame you. I don't think anyone would. Your motivation wasn't to die."

"Thanks, mate," said Alex.

Yuri smiled.

"Anytime."

* * *

Shopping for a bed the next day was nerve racking, especially for Yuri and Ben. Surprisingly, Alex didn't seem too bothered by the strangers pressing in on every side, though in reality it was just an act. In reality, he had to hold himself rigid to stop himself flinching whenever someone came too close, though Yuri and Ben, positioned protectively on either side, did help some.

It was almost worse for Ben and Yuri, though. They were completely freaking out about the possibility of Alex freaking out or something bad happening because of his, apparently limitless, bad luck.

In the end though, they did manage to buy two single beds that would fit into the small room Yuri and Alex were to share. Arranging to have them delivered the next day, Ben ushered the teens home.

"MI6 called this morning," said Ben conversationally, when they arrived back to his apartment. Neither Ben nor Yuri missed the way Alex stiffened involuntarily at the name, but Ben ploughed on. For once the news wasn't bad. "They were talking about you continuing your education," he continued. "They want to give you a choice. Either you can return to school – either Brookland, or another of your choice – or you can have a tutor come here every day to teach you and Yuri."

Alex blinked. "Seriously?" he asked. "They're giving me a choice?"

Ben nodded, a boyish grin stealing over his face at the sight of Alex's disbelief.

"When do they want their answer?" said Alex. "Actually, never mind. It's no contest... they'll seriously organise a tutor and we can take public exams and everything?"

Ben nodded again.

"Well then why would I want to go back to school?" asked Alex, with a grin.

Ben sighed. "Football, maybe?" he suggested, and Alex faltered. He'd forgotten about that.

"Just think about it, Alex," said Ben. "If you're serious about the tutor, I guess you might be able to join a local team... When was the last time you played?"

"Erm... before the accident," said Alex and for a moment Ben was confused, until he remembered that Alex still called Gregorovich's original interference in his life, and its end, an accident. Momentarily, he wondered how true that was, but pushed the concern aside for now.

"So you need some more practice?" said Ben teasingly. "I'm pretty sure I saw a football among your old things... how about we go to the park this afternoon?"

Alex grinned. "Course."

"It's strange," commented Yuri, "You actually having free time. You always used to be working, like, everyday."

Alex paused. "Oh, shit," he said, closing his eyes. "I completely forgot. Bella's going to kill me!"

Ben winced, slightly, then smiled again. "Well, you've got a pretty good excuse... you're entire life has been turned upside down, after all."

"I guess," said Alex. "I better go over this afternoon and try to explain... Christ, I hope she's not mad."

"She will be," said Yuri, tilting his head to the side in amusement, "but she'll forgive you. Just say you were mugged or something. Lord knows you still look beaten up enough for it to be believable."

"Thanks," said Alex, dryly.

"You're welcome," Yuri said, glibly and Alex glared at him.

"Maybe we can play tomorrow," he said. "I'd better go apologise to Bella."

"Will you be ok on your own?" asked Ben, concernedly.

Alex raised his eyebrow, though he did appreciate the sentiment. "I'll be fine, Ben, stop worrying so much."

Ben smiled.

"Well if you're sure," he said.

Alex nodded slightly and left. Yuri and Ben stared after him for a moment before Ben shook his head abruptly.

"So," he said. "How much is she going to yell at him, do you think?"

Yuri grinned.

* * *

_**A/N: Seeing as I can't update FFH on Monday, and I still owe you a chapter of this... how about I update this on Monday instead? Hmm... something tells me you won't object. It will mean I'm a little late replying to reviews, but you don't mind that too badly, do you?**_

_**Btw... the 'dark' looks Yuri was sending Alex sparked some really interesting theories. Hoping you realise now that it was just concern! Yuri is not going to turn into a villain!**_

_**Hmm... I'm forgetting something... oh yeah! REVIEW! :D**_


	5. Chapter 4

_**A/N: Well, you'll be pleased to know I had the most amazing weekend. Caught up with a few friends, etc. This was actually why I didn't update yesterday – I went to bed really early. Sorry about that. Thanks for all the reviews I've received.**_

_**Given how unreliable I seem to be at posting three times a week, I might down grade to two – this on Tuesdays and FFH or TDDUP or a One-shot or Pro Patria Mori on a Thursday. What do you think? I've just written the next chapter of FFH, you'll be pleased to know. And Pro Patria Mori already has 25k words so I shouldn't skip updating something... anyway, onto the chapter...**_

_**Disclaimer: Nothing you recognise is mine.**_

_**

* * *

**_

The first thing Alex heard when he slunk guiltily through the door of his former work place was a shocked gasp, before a hand closed around his wrist and tugged him, gently but firmly, into the back.

"Where have you been?" demanded Bella. "It's been almost a week and you haven't turned up for a single shift! Have you any idea how hard it is to get someone to cover a Saturday night shift at that late notice?" she hissed.

Alex winced. "I'm sorry Bella... I should have called. I would have... but..."

"But what?" she asked.

Alex bit his lip. He could tell her the truth, but somehow he didn't think she would believe him.

"I was mugged," he said eventually. "They took my phone and... well, everything."

Bella frowned slightly and, gripping his chin, turned his face towards the light to inspect the feathering of bruising along his jaw and the swelling still visible around his eye. Her eyes fell to the bandages running up his arms and under the sleeves of his long-sleeved top and then ghosted over the awkward set of his shoulder, still painful from frequent aggravation. Moreover, she saw the pale, haunted look on his face.

"Are you ok?" she asked, seriously.

"Yeah," said Alex, running a hand through his hair distractedly. "Yeah, I'm fine..."

She sighed. "You still have a job," she said finally. "You're one of my best workers and have been reliable until now. I can't really fire you."

Alex smiled slightly. "Thanks... but..."

"But what?" she asked, suspiciously.

"I..." he bit his lip. She wasn't going to like this, especially not after just sticking her neck out for him like that.

"I just need to sort myself out, you know? I mean... when I went to hospital... I ran into someone..."

Bella raised an eyebrow suspiciously and Alex hastened to reassure her.

"It's nothing like that!" he said, hurriedly. "He's just... he worked with my uncle." Lie. "He's said he'll support me through college if I need it." Lie. "I... Well, I'd get my life back, you know?" Truth. And Lie. He'd get the opportunity for a life... but he could be throwing one away as well...

Bella's gaze softened.

"Greg..." she said, quietly.

"Call me Alex," said Alex, with a smile. She frowned at him in confusion.

"Alex," she said after a moment. Alex was glad she didn't question him. "Be careful, ok?"

"I will be," said Alex.

"OK," said Bella, leading him through to the bar. "You want a drink before you go?" she said, leaning against the beer taps. "On the house."

Alex grinned. "Thanks," he said. She gestured to the beer, but he shook his head. "Coke, please," he said and she grinned.

"So you've not changed all that much," she said.

"Not that much," agreed Alex.

"Just your name... _Alex,"_she said, looking at him curiously.

He grinned and shrugged awkwardly.

"Alex Rider," he said, holding out his hand as if to introduce himself.

She smiled again and took it, shaking it firmly. "Nice to meet you, Alex."

Neither of them noticed the scowling man sitting a few seats over; neither knew that Jake Platt had heard every word of their conversation and neither knew how much it would cost Alex.

* * *

True to his word, Ben dragged the teens out of bed about nine o'clock the next morning to take them to the park. Alex thought it was scary how enthused Ben was. Wasn't that his and Yuri's job?

Apparently not, he thought, amusedly, as Ben jogged a few metres away and dropped the ball at his feet.

"Ok, me versus you two?" he suggested, and Alex snorted.

"Ben, I'd kick your arse! You two against me."

"But you're injured," Yuri pointed out.

"Yeah," said Alex, "It's so unfair. I'd cut off my leg to even the odds, but I'm not sure the hospital time is worth it," he teased.

Ben grinned and pretended to glare at Alex.

"Ok, Alex, ready to lose?"

"You wish, Daniels."

Ben laughed and took off across the grass, Alex close on his heels.

It was actually embarrassing how thoroughly Alex trounced them, mused Ben. At least, it had been until some other boys in the park joined in. Alex seemed to recognise them, and a few of them started when they heard his name, but no insults went flying, just the football as the two teams raced against each other.

They went to MacDonald's for lunch, with Alex and Yuri shamelessly sponging off Ben, once he assured them that MI6 had agreed to pay for any expenses incurred on their behalf.

Alex did spare a moment to worry about why, exactly, they were being so nice to him, but pushed it out of his mind. They owed him this much, surely.

The rules decayed in the afternoon until, with the light fading slightly, it had descended to an all-out brawl, the ball only used as a vague focus for the mass wrestling match.

Alex collapsed as a shorter boy tackled his legs and the ball was quickly stolen from him. He lay on the cold ground, laughing and panting by turns until a noise from the makeshift sidelines caught his attention.

"Hey, Ben!" he called. "Your phone's going."

Ben, who had been attempting to extricate Yuri from a pileup without much success, looked up and hurried over.

"Thanks Al," he said, rooting through his jacket pockets and withdrawing a sleek, black phone from the inside pocket.

"Daniels," he said curtly, picking up.

He blinked. "Yes... yeah... I'll be right there... How long...? I see. Ok. Yes, of course. Yeah... Yeah... What about...?" he sighed. "I guess I could. Yeah... I'm just at the park I'll be..." He blinked and took the phone away from his ear.

"It was work, wasn't it," said a suddenly sombre Alex.

Ben nodded.

"How long will you be gone?" he asked, quietly.

"I don't know," said Ben. "I'll call someone from K-Unit to move in with you until I'm back, ok? They can stay in my room." He paused, and glanced at Alex. "Will you be ok with that?" he asked, concerned.

"I'll be fine," said Alex, his face curiously impassive.

"Good..." said Ben. "Good. You and Yuri will be able to find your way back, right? I've really got to go."

"Yeah," said Alex as Ben started to walk away. "Good luck!" he called after the older agent.

Ben raised a hand in response and Alex sighed. Ben would be fine, he was sure.

Suddenly not in the mood to play anymore, he called Yuri and, after extracting the ball, the two of them made their way home.

Deep inside, a part of him wondered if this was how Jack had felt whenever he left. He hoped not. He had never wanted to put her through this.

"Where did Ben go?" asked Yuri and Alex closed his eyes.

"Work."

"When's he going to be back?"

"I don't know," said Alex.

"_Is_ he coming back?" asked Yuri, quietly.

Alex's answer was barely a whisper, almost too quiet for Yuri to catch.

"I don't know."

* * *

_**A/N: So? Review and tell me what you thought!**_


	6. Chapter 5

**A/N: So here's the next chapter. For all of you FFH fans I'm updating that tomorrow. Or, I plan on updating it tomorrow anyways. That fic is really making me nervous atm, I'm not used to only being one chapter ahead of posting! Anyways, onto the chapter!**

**DISCLAIMER: Nothing you recognise is mine.**

**

* * *

**

They were woken the next morning by someone swearing in the hallway. Alex jumped quickly out of bed and sank into a fighting stance.

Yuri simply sat up and looked around.

"You dealing with that?" asked Yuri. Alex nodded, slowly, looking at him strangely. "Good," said the brunette before abruptly falling back onto his pillows.

Alex shook his head, in amazement. The other teen was already fast asleep again.

Meanwhile, the volume, speed and severity of the swearing had increased. By this point, Alex was pretty sure it wasn't a threat because 1. Any burglars probably wouldn't have come in through the front door; 2. Any assassins probably wouldn't have fallen over the partially dismantled bed taking up the majority of the hallway and 3. Anyone_not_ allowed in the apartment would probably not be making quite as much noise.

Sighing, he moved quickly to the hallway and snapped on the light. Wolf was leaning against the wall, clutching at his ankle and sporting a rather impressive red mark on his forehead.

Alex raised an eyebrow.

"You didn't think to turn on the light?"

Wolf glared at him and mumbled something indistinct.

"What was that?" asked Alex, amused.

"I said that it was lighter until I closed the door," said Wolf, flushing red.

"I take it Ben asked you to come over?" said Alex and Wolf nodded.

"You want breakfast?" he asked and Wolf smiled.

The scene Yuri walked in on half an hour later – when he was feeling somewhat more human – was strange. Wolf was sipping grumpily at a cup of black coffee while Alex teased him about his addiction to caffeine and flipped pancakes at the stove.

"It's... James, right?" said Yuri. "You came to kidnap me from our old flat."

"That's me," said Wolf, downing the last of his coffee and then pinching Alex's off the worktop.

Alex frowned. "I thought you didn't drink coffee with milk?"

"Unless there is no other caffeine available," corrected Wolf, smirking.

Yuri rolled his eyes and made two more cups, swapping one with Alex for a plate of pancakes. Yuri smiled and sat down opposite Wolf to eat.

He couldn't help but notice that he was now closer to the man than Alex had been since he came in.

"Any news of Ben, yet?" he asked.

Wolf shook his head.

"He'll probably be a few weeks at least," said Alex, passing another plate to Yuri who slid it across to Wolf.

"And you're staying here until he comes back?" asked Yuri, glancing at Wolf.

"That's the plan," said the soldier, digging into the pancakes in front of him. "When did you become such a good cook?" he asked.

Alex shrugged and Yuri grinned. "Alex has always been able to cook. He can make a meal out of pretty much nothing."

"I think you mean anything," said Alex lightly, with a nervous glance at Wolf. He didn't want the soldier to know how often he and Yuri had had to skip meals.

Yuri frowned momentarily then laughed. "Right, sorry. So, any word on this tutor, yet?"

"Yeah," said Alex. "Jones called earlier – they're sending someone around later - around two. So could we please be here." His tone took on a bored, singsong voice as he quoted verbatim. "And could we please behave, as the tutor does not have to teach us and is doing us a favour. It would be ungrateful to act up."

Yuri raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure this chick Jones isn't your mother, or something?"

Wolf choked and even Alex looked shocked.

"I'm sure," he gasped. "And please, never, ever, _ever_ call Mrs Jones a 'chick' again."

Yuri grinned. "Ok, I'll try and remember."

* * *

True to his word, Alex was waiting in the flat at two and he had even managed to press Yuri into the seat next to him. Wolf had disappeared back to his own place to bring some stuff over and they were alone until the doorbell rang.

Alex stood up and went to answer it. He wasn't prepared for the familiar face on the other side.

"Mr Grey?" he asked, delightedly. "I didn't know that it was you they were sending."

"Alex," smiled the teacher. "You're lucky it's the holidays, you know."

"It's the holidays?" asked Alex, surprised. "I haven't been keeping track."

"Easter holidays," confirmed Mr Grey. "I'm afraid when school is back in session we'll have to change it to weekends and evenings... but for now... let's see where you're both up to, shall we?"

When Wolf returned about an hour later, both boys were pouring over a textbook with what actually seemed to be excitement. Mr Grey walked up to him.

"Charlie Grey," he said. "I'm the boys' tutor. I assume you're their... guardian?"

"No," grunted Wolf, "I'm just keeping an eye on them for a while."

"I see..." said Mr Grey slowly. "What happened to Jack? I know she used to be Alex's guardian, but I've not heard anything about her since months before Alex disappeared."

"You knew Alex before?" asked Wolf.

"Yeah," said Mr Grey, "I was a teacher at his school. Tutored him one summer."

"How's he – I mean, how are they doing?"

"Well, they're both bright boys," said Mr Grey, "but Alex hasn't had a steady education since his uncle died and Yuri... I'm not sure he'd ever had one, really."

Wolf sighed. "Wouldn't surprise me," he said. "I only met him recently... but from the sounds of it they've both been through a lot."

"Well," said Mr Grey. "It's a pleasure to teach two boys who are so eager to learn."

Wolf smiled. "I bet it's just the novelty," he said. "As soon as they get back into it they'll be back to normal, most likely."

"Most likely," agreed Mr Grey with a tight smile.

"Would you like some tea, Mr Grey?" asked Wolf, politely. "The boys look pretty occupied at the moment."

"Thanks," said Mr Grey. "And please, call me Charlie."

"James," said Wolf, shaking the man's hand.

"So how did you end up looking after them?"

"I'm not entirely sure, at the moment. Lord knows I'm probably the least appropriate person to do it."

_Especially given my relationship with Alex _before _this,_ he thought, morosely. Wouldn't Snake or even Eagle have been a better choice? At least they weren't going to be thinking of Alex naked every five minutes. _Or they better not be_, he growled, mentally.

"Most parents would say exactly the same thing," smiled Charlie, reassuringly. He was a bit perturbed when Wolf blanched.

_He was supposed to be parental?_

"I'm... not really a parent figure," said Wolf, slowly. "I mean... I was a... friend of Alex's before he ever... moved in with Ben."

Charlie frowned. "I... see. How did you meet them?"

"First through work... we didn't get along. Then, again, when I was on leave but I didn't recognise him and he... he didn't remember. You know he had amnesia, right?"

Charlie nodded. "The people who employed me explained. Though I'm curious as to who they are. They don't think amnesia is unusual, they don't bat an eyelid when someone who is assumed dead turns up alive and well or at the fact that both of the boys have obviously been severely beaten."

Wolf winced.

"Sorry," said Charlie. "I was told not to ask questions."

"Which probably just made you even more curious, right?" suggested Wolf with a wry grin.

"Guilty as charged," said Mr Grey. He finished his tea. "I better get back to the kids" – again, Wolf winced at the wording and Charlie fought to keep the suspicion off his face –"The exercise I set them shouldn't keep them busy for long."

* * *

Charlie left the flat some hours later, and Alex was relieved. It had been nice to see his old tutor, he guessed, but it threw up a lot of old memories and not all of them good. His last few months at school had hardly been the best in his life, after all.

He sighed and lay down on the sofa as Yuri jumped up and switched on the TV. _The Simpsons_ blared out over the small set and Wolf came wearily through from where he'd been working on a report in the kitchen.

"Budge up," he said, prodding Alex's legs with his foot.

With a mock glare, Alex tucked his legs underneath him to give the soldier room to sit down.

"Want a drink?" asked Yuri, heading through to the kitchen.

"There should be beer in the fridge," said Wolf.

"Yeah, get one for me too," said Alex, moodily.

Wolf raised an eyebrow. "I was under the impression that you didn't drink much."

"I don't," said Alex, "but I just had four hours of lessons with a very definite link to my past life and it's just... tiring, you know?"

"Fair enough," said Wolf.

Alex didn't want to admit how much he wanted that beer at the moment. The truth was, he wasn't tired, at all. He was on edge. He needed to get out. He'd say go running but it would leave his mind free to think which was the last thing he wanted.

He needed to get out.

* * *

**A/N: So what did you think? Like it? Review and tell me? Hmmm... I hope these new dividing lines I'm using are working. Triple starts kept disappearing for some reason. *sigh***


	7. Chapter 6

**A/N: I am exhausted. Not only did I get no sleep he night before last, but last night, my dad had an emergency at work so I hd to drive him in as he'd already had a drink. Which meant instead of the nice early night I had planned, I didn't get to bed until about 1AM. Needless to say I'm feeling rather cranky today. But anyway, on to the story!**

**DISCLAIMER: Nothing you recognise belongs to me.**

**WARNINGS: Character death, underage drinking, references to het sex.**

-o-O-o-

Both Wolf and Yuri went to bed early that night, for which Alex was eternally grateful. Already on his third beer, he could feel a pleasant buzz though the alcohol had done little to dull his senses as of yet. That restless feeling was still zinging through his nervous system like fire, though. He couldn't sit still. He needed to get out, not sit here watching bad TV.

Suddenly he stood and crossed to the door, grabbing his phone, wallet and house keys on the way.

He left the flat.

-o-O-o-

Snake had promised Ben that he'd check on Wolf every so often and had decided to drop in this morning. Wolf was the logical choice as he lived closest to Ben and so would be least inconvenienced, but he was hardly the best candidate for a guardian, even a temporary one.

And so Snake had agreed to take an hour of his day, every day, to check on the three of them. Of course, he wasn't going to tell Wolf that. He'd tell his team leader he was just there to check on Alex and Yuri. He didn't think Wolf would take too kindly to the news that Ben wasn't convinced he could look after himself.

He knocked.

The door was quickly answered by Yuri, who grinned and invited him through to the kitchen for breakfast or, when Snake turned that down as he'd already eaten, at least a cup of coffee.

Snake smiled at Wolf, not bothering to talk to him as he knew exactly how talkative the man was in the morning. Strangely, the man actually smiled back, an expression Snake had never expected to see on the man before midday.

"Where's Alex?" he frowned, glancing around the small kitchen.

Yuri shrugged. "I think he went out last night. He'll probably be back soon."

Snake stopped dead. "He _went out_? Where?"

Yuri shrugged again. "I dunno. I was asleep."

"What about you, Wolf?" asked Snake, angrily. "Did you think to ask?"

"I'd already gone to bed," said Wolf, succinctly. "Anyway, why should he tell me? I'm his friend, not his father."

"Good job too," muttered Yuri under his breath and Wolf shot him a wry grin.

"What does that mean?" asked Snake, suspiciously and Wolf shot him a weird look.

"It means that Yuri thinks I'd make a crap dad. What else would it mean?" he asked, defensively.

Snake shrugged. "I don't know... never mind. Sorry. But seriously, Wolf. You've got to get your head straight. Ben asked you to look after the kids – not just to house sit and let them run wild."

Yuri snorted. "We can look after ourselves just fine, Snake. We lived by ourselves in a flat for three months. We don't really need supervising."

Snake frowned and looked at him. "If you were living in that flat, I'm pretty sure you needed help." K-Unit had all heard the horror stories from Wolf.

Yuri rolled his eyes, but his answer was cut off by the sound of the front door opening and keys being dropped on the table.

"Alex?" called Yuri, impressed that he didn't hesitate on the name for once. "Is that you?"

"No," came Alex's dry voice. "It's the Loch Ness Monster. I got bored of Scotland and decided London would suit me better."

"Very funny, Al," said the dark haired teen and Alex pushed open the door, grinning.

His grin faded slightly as he took in Snake, still standing accusatorily.

"Snake!" he said, surprised. "What are you doing here? You haven't heard something about Ben, have you?"

The soldier shook his head. "No, he just asked me to call around occasionally to check on you."

"Huh," said Alex. "Weird, but ok."

"Great," said Snake. "Now we've got that sorted out – _where the hell were you?"_

Alex blinked. "I snuck into a club," he said with a shrug. "I needed something to distract me and loud music seemed pretty much perfect."

"You did _what_? You're sixteen! You shouldn't be going anywhere near a club!"

Alex looked at him for a second then shook his head, equally surprised and exasperated by Snake's outburst.

"It's not really any of your business," he pointed out, mildly. "Now if you don't mind, I'm going to have a shower."

-o-O-o-

"Fuck," said Alex, collapsing on his bed. "Fuck, my head hurts."

"Yeah," said Yuri. "It's called a hangover. If you are going to be a tosser and go out drinking without me, then you'd better get used to them."

"Oh, and I wouldn't get one if you came along?"

"No," admitted Yuri, "but at least I'd be able to remind you that you'd had fun. I bet you can't remember anything about it!"

"Actually, I can," said Alex. "It was fun. Dancing, drinking... it really... I don't know what, but it helped."

"Where did you sleep?" asked Yuri, curiously.

"I went home with this... woman."

"A _woman_?" repeated Yuri in surprise. "Really? I thought you were strictly men-only?"

"I... I thought I was," said Alex. "But... when I remembered who I was... Well, I've had girlfriends before, you know? Hell, I slept with them before. And never really felt more than a passing attraction to a man. It's... strange, you know? I mean... it all changed when... when he abducted me... Hell, what if I only liked... _like_ men because of him? Because of what he did to me?"

Yuri tilted his head to the side. "Did you enjoy it with the woman? I didn't think you'd want anyone to get that close to you."

"It was... different, you know?" said Alex. "Nothing like it was with... _him_."

"Did you enjoy it?" asked Yuri again.

"I..." Alex's face twisted with confusion. He didn't like the answer he was about to give. After what Yassen had done to him, surely he shouldn't have enjoyed it? But he had. Suddenly, he jerked his head defiantly. He would _not_ let that bastard effect how he felt. He wouldn't feel guilty for enjoying himself.

"Yeah, I did," he said, with a smile.

"And did you enjoy it with James – before?"

Alex nodded.

"Well, that's all that matters, then, isn't it?" said Yuri with a grin.

"I guess," said Alex, but his smile faded a little.

"Here, do me a favour, will you? Don't tell James? I'm not sure how he'd take it."

"Don't tell James what?" asked a voice from the door.

"Crap," muttered Alex.

"It's nothing," said Yuri.

"Right," said Wolf. "So much of nothing, in fact, that I'm not allowed to know about it."

Alex winced. Wolf was obviously hurt, though he wouldn't let it show. He half raised a hand to stop the soldier, but Wolf had already gone.

"Crap," he muttered again.

-o-O-o-

"Wilson," said a faux cheerful voice as the door was pushed open. "I hope this is good news, for once."

"It is indeed, sir," said Wilson. "The spy's finally broken."

The newcomer raised an eyebrow. "That _is_ good. So, what's the scoop?"

"His name is Ben Daniels. He was sent by MI6 to discover why agents have been disappearing. Apparently, one was tracked to our office-front before they lost signal – you might want to look into that by the way. It's probably just a technical fault with the scrambler, but still."

"Thank you for the advice. Any luck on the... other issue?"

Wilson smiled. "He'll tell you himself," he said, reaching down in an almost gentle gesture to stroke the cheek of the man on the floor beside him. Wilson's smile widened as the young man flinched away.

"What is MI6's secret weapon?" asked the man. "I know there is one."

The one-time Liverpudlian let out a strangled sob and shook his head. Wilson grabbed his raven hair and pulled his head backwards.

"Tell him," he hissed. "Tell him, or I will, and things will go badly for you."

Ben screwed his eyes shut. He couldn't take it anymore. "Alex Rider," he confessed, brokenly.

"Thank you," said the man, before turning to Wilson. "Shoot him."

"God forgive me," whispered Ben, softly.

The gun went off.

-o-O-o-

**A/N: Please don't kill me!**


	8. Chapter 7

_**A/N: Erm... Ooops?**_

_**Disclaimer: Nothing you recognise belongs to me. Anthony Horowitz can have Wilson and Platt as well. They're mean.**_

-o-O-o-

Wilson sighed. His boss had been incredibly stupid to kill the spy before they had found out who, exactly, Alex Rider was. As it was, all they had was a name and the fact that he lived in London.

But, he wasn't about to question him, not after he had fucked up so badly on the arms deal. He'd known someone had tipped MI6 off, and the mole had paid with their life, but had been hoping that such a young face would throw them off, make them hesitate long enough for him to get the cash and get away, but it hadn't worked. Greg, that little bastard, had gotten himself and Mason arrested.

And then the kid had to go and disappear on him. Fucking brat. When Wilson found him, the kid would pay. He'd pay for every penny with blood. He'd pay for his defiance_and_ for turning Wilson down.

Wilson would fucking _kill_ him.

But Greg wasn't his problem at the moment. At the moment he was looking for Agent Alex Rider, and finally, after a week of searching, he thought he had a lead. He was supposed to be meeting the man here.

In fact, he could see his informant now. A brute of a man, hunched over a pint in the corner.

"Mr Platt?" he enquired sitting down.

The man nodded.

"I hear you have some information for me about one Alex Rider."

Again the man nodded. "The payment?"

"One thousand, cash, as soon as I have the information," Wilson ground out.

The man nodded again. It was really starting to annoy him. Could Platt actually do anything else?

"Alex Rider is a teenager. He used to work at the Fox and Hen on Drawers Street, under the name of Greg and he still lives near there, I think, though I don't know the exact location. He's-"

But Wilson cut him off. "Greg? Are you sure?"

The man nodded and Wilson had to clutch onto his trousers to keep from punching the man.

"Blond hair, brown eyes?"

The man confirmed.

Coincidence or planning? Wilson wasn't sure, though he was at a loss as to how this would work in anyone's favour. Well, apart from his. He'd finally get his revenge on Greg.

"Get me an address and I'll double the money. Until then, you get nothing," he spat.

"Hey, now come on, that's not fair!" protested Platt.

Wilson snarled and pulled his gun out, shoving it into Platt's gut underneath the table.

"What's fair is that I don't shoot you right now, and give you a chance to get that information. Will you do it?"

Platt nodded, the movement jerky with nerves. "What do you want with him anyway?" he asked, trying to seem unconcerned.

"I'm going to take him to my boss and then I'm going to kill him," said Wilson, coldly. "Got a problem with that?"

Platt paled slightly, then grimaced. "Seems a bit of a waste. Rough him up a bit from me, first, ok?"

Wilson smiled, grimly amused by Platt's attempt not to seem bothered. He obviously wouldn't intervene though.

"Don't worry. I intend to."

-o-O-o-

Yuri smiled as he saw Alex grab a few of the kicking pads and pack them away into the gym store closet, trying to ignore the near-worshipful eyes of his students. For some reason, though teenagers, and frequently adults as well, felt uneasy around the coiled danger that was Alex, children seemed to adore him, sensing perhaps the innate goodness and sense of justice inside.

The boys and girls he taught adored him and, the way Yuri heard it, Alex had had to turn down quite a few childish invitations to come for dinner and quite a few not-so-childish ones from the fresh-faced young mothers or older sisters who collected the children. Apparently they were under the impression that someone who got on so well with their charge would be a good addition to their life.

Alex had always ducked out, before now, and today would be no exception, apparently, as Yuri could already hear Alex patiently telling Ella – a pretty blond child with all the simple outspokenness of youth – that he was very sorry, but he couldn't come to her house for tea tonight as he was expected back home.

"That's ok, Alex," she announced. "My parents get cross too if I forget to tell them that I'm going to a friends for tea."

"Sorry," said a soft-spoken voice from behind Alex, after the owner noticed his wince. "She's not being a pain, is she?"

Alex turned, smiling, to face Amelia, Ella's mother.

"Not at all, Mrs Prescott. She's charming."

"I see you brought a friend along, today," said Amelia, glancing towards Yuri.

"Yeah, that's my roommate, Yuri."

Yuri sent her a winning smile before returning to brooding. He knew he was being ridiculous. He had come today to _stop _himself from brooding, after all, but two – nearly three – weeks had passed and there had been no word of Ben. Alex didn't seem worried, but he could just have been acting. Lord knew, he was far better at that than Yuri.

After all the agent had done for him – for them – he didn't want anything bad to happen to him.

Finally, it seemed that Alex had fended off the last of his students and their carers and had shouldered his bag. They were ready to go.

Lithely, Yuri rose to his feet and followed his friend out of the door.

They had to pass through the main gym to get to the entrance. Yuri never liked this bit. In their admittedly scruffy training clothes, they looked out of place among the sleek gym equipment and even sleeker patrons.

"Why did you have to pick this gym?" he muttered under his breath.

Alex shot him a wry grin. "Because the people here are the ones who can generally afford for their six year olds to learn Karate."

"You could have chosen somewhere that wasn't quite so snobbish – I'm surprised they even employed you."

Alex chuckled. "Me too, sometimes."

Yuri smiled, finally, and they ducked outside. Alex shifted uncomfortably for a moment and Yuri glanced around, wondering what the problem was. There was no-one in sight.

"Come on," said Alex. "let's get going – race you to the station?"

-o-O-o-

Alex set a punishing pace and Yuri found himself struggling badly to keep up.

"Alex!" he called, out of breath. "Stop! Please..."

Alex glanced back and returned to Yuri's side.

"Hurry, Yuri," said Alex, his voice low with urgency.

"What's the matter?" asked Yuri, confused.

Alex glanced darkly back the way they had come. "We're being followed."

"By who?" asked Yuri, slowly regaining his breath and straightening up.

"There... by the lamp post second down – don't look!"

Yuri automatically stopped in his tracks and turned back to Alex.

"The window behind me," said Alex, curtly. "Can you see him?"

The question proved unnecessary, however. It was obvious that Yuri not only saw him but knew him. He had gone pale and stiff.

"Yuri, look at me," instructed Alex, quietly, placing a hand on the brunette's shoulder. "What's wrong?"

Yuri shuddered and failed to meet Alex's eyes.

"He's here for me, Alex... h-he... he was the one who... who..."

"The one who what?" said Alex, his voice cold with suspicion. "The one who drugged you?"

Yuri nodded helplessly.

"I'll kill him," snarled Alex.

"No!" cried Yuri, clutching at his arm. "I... I need you with me... I need to get home."

Alex sent one last piercing glare at their stalker then conceded, his lust for revenge pushed aside for the moment in the weight of Yuri's reliance on him. But one thing was certain: Platt would pay.

-o-O-o-

_**A/N: yeah, sorry it was so late. Thank Reachforthesky for finally kicking my ass into gear with a very... pointed PM!**_

_**Anyways, review, please.**_

_**And yeah, sorry, I killed Ben. I didn't have room within the plot to piece him back together . Plus... his death is needed later on... Well, at least your pitch forks all failed to kill me, right?**_

_**Hmm... would you believe me if I said I hadn't updated because I ws in hospital due to pitchfork-related injuries? Somehow, I doubt it. I think I'll just stick with apologising profusely.**_

_**Sorry!**_


	9. Chapter 8

_**A/N: See, It's only a week later and I'm updating! Aren't you all proud of me?**_

_**WARNINGS: character death, implied violence.**_

_**DISCLAIMER: Nothing you recognise belongs to me.**_

-o-O-o-

Jake sighed as he let himself into his house. He hadn't meant for the teens to see him, but that couldn't be helped. At least, after the black-haired whore had seen him, Greg had been so intent on getting him away that he either hadn't seen, or hadn't cared, that Jake had followed them right to the door. He had already told the man the address and received his two grand.

Finding out that Greg and the whore were friends had been a surprise, but not an unwelcome one. He could still remember the feel of those slender hips under his grasping fingers, could still remember imagining it was Greg's arsehole he was brutally pounding into. He had been angry, wanting revenge for the humiliation Greg had dealt him in the alleyway. Unable to get it, he had taken out his emotions on the first young male to cross his path. The cries had been gratifying; that he should have been a friend of Greg's – that he had managed to hurt Greg after all – was even more so.

A pity Greg didn't seem to have the same principles as his friend, really. Paying him would have saved everyone a lot of effort.

Shaking his head sharply, he tossed his jacket over the back of a nearby chair and headed upstairs for a shower.

He entered the bedroom, flicked on the light and froze.

There, reclining on the bed, twirling a knife through his fingers, was Greg.

Jake swallowed, trying to ignore how dry his throat was, and stepped forward sneering.

"What are you doing here?" he spat.

Greg's eyes were dark and unreadable.

"You hurt my friend."

"Oh, come on!" said Jake. "He's a whore. He should know to expect it."

Slowly, dangerously, Greg stood up and stepped towards him, the knife still glinting dully in his hand.

"You hurt my _friend_."

-o-O-o-

Alex had his head slumped in his hands when Yuri came home from the shops. The blond seemed almost catatonic, completely oblivious to Yuri's presence.

"Alex?" said Yuri, cautiously. "Is everything ok?"

"Everything's fine," said Alex, his voice rough with some emotion Yuri couldn't put a name to.

"Everything is _not_ fine," said Yuri, firmly. "What's wrong?"

"Just fuck off," spat Alex. "I don't need your help – I don't _deserve_ your help – so just fuck off and leave me alone."

Yuri frowned, cautiously moving closer to the spy. If Alex was reacting like this, something was obviously really wrong.

He put a hand down on his friend's shoulder, almost flinching away as Alex's shoulders shuddered, but just avoiding it.

"Alex?" said Yuri, concern dripping in the name.

His shoulders shook again, and again and Yuri realised that he was crying.

"I'm so sorry, Yuri," sobbed Alex. "It was all my fault."

"What was?" asked Yuri.

"You, ending up in hospital... if I had just... just..."

"How on earth was that your fault?" scoffed Yuri. "It was the fault of the bastard who drugged me."

Alex shook his head. "If I had just..."

"Just what?" said Yuri, forcefully, almost mockingly. "Followed me around for every minute of every day?"

"No..." whispered Alex. "If... If I'd just given him what he wanted in the first place..."

Yuri froze. "You knew him?"

"He... He went to the pub a lot... He was Jake." Alex turned his head to stare at Yuri with wide eyes.

"Jake," said Yuri, sounding the name out in his mouth. "The man you always used to complain about. The man who almost got you fired?"

Alex nodded. "He cornered me in an alley after work earlier that day. I... I beat him. He... He said it was my fault that he wanted you... s-said he wouldn't have if... if..." He broke off with a shudder.

Yuri stared at him.

"He said..." he repeated, slowly. "He said... _when_ exactly?"

Alex shook his head, but Yuri caught the brief flicker of his eyes towards the open kitchen door.

There was a knife on the draining board. Clean, but not yet dry, it was perhaps four inches long, a little under half of that the thin, sharpened blade. The blade glinted evilly in the sharp kitchen lights, conflicting completely with the innocence of the kitchen knife lying in the kitchen.

Dread struck Yuri with cold certainty.

"What did you _do?"_

-o-O-o-

Yuri was long gone by the time Wolf came in. Alex didn't ask where he'd been. He was distinctly not in the mood to be sociable after Yuri had ranted at him for the best part of an hour.

Alex was surprised that the brunette was so upset. The man was a rapist and thief, at the very least and, judging from the apparent ease he had gotten the drugs to give Yuri, far more besides.

The man had needed killing, it was as simple as that.

Once, Alex had tried to say that killing was wrong, but that belief hadn't lasted long. Even on his first mission, he had killed to protect himself and he had had no such claims at Point Blanc with Mr Grief. The man had simply needed killing and so Alex had done the deed.

The only difference now was that he didn't care what weapon he used, whether it was a gun, a knife or something less obvious – snowmobile, explosion, magnet, the list went on.

No-one had ever brought up the people he killed – those who could, theoretically, have been taken captive by a more experienced agent. He never really thought about it anymore.

Yuri had said he had no morality, but he was wrong. Alex just didn't think in ideals, any more.

"_You have a noble streak a mile wide_," said Yuri in the distance of Alex's memory. Apparently he didn't agree any more.

Alex was started from his thoughts as Wolf settled into the chair nearby and turned on the news. One item leapt out at him

"_Jake Platt, aged 32, was found dead, today, in his house in London after having his throat cut. The man had been hamstrung while still alive before finally being killed by his assailant. There is no sign of forced entry or of Platt putting up more than a brief struggle. Police officers have stated that the crime resembles a revenge killing, but as of yet they have no suspects."_

The hamstringing had, perhaps, been unnecessary, but he had needed to have more control over Jake to avoid incriminating himself with bloodstains or footprints or DNA samples. The only blood not left, untouched, in the apartment was on the small blade of the knife he had used – which had now been very carefully washed down the sink. There was nothing to link it back to him.

Wolf looked a bit surprised. It was not often, Alex guessed, that someone was hamstrung in central London, after all.

"Where's Yuri?" grunted Wolf, as the newsreader was replaced by the weather reporter.

"He went out," said Alex, abruptly. "We had a bit of an argument."

"'Bout what?" asked Wolf, obviously only semi-interested.

"Nothing," said Alex, shortly.

"Really?" said Wolf, raising an eyebrow. "There's an awful lot of nothing around here, these days. Is this the same nothing as the other day? Or is this a different nothing?"

Alex shifted uncomfortably. "A different nothing," he admitted, looking away from Wolf.

It didn't help – he could still feel the heat of the man's glare before he got it under control.

"You don't need to keep secrets from me," said Wolf, his voice forcibly kept calm though Alex could still hear the taut anger ringing through each word.

"I know," said Alex, dully.

"Then why are you?"

What could Alex say? 'Because I broke the law and really don't care'? No... Wolf probably didn't have the same disregard for rules that he did, but that wasn't the reason he was keeping silent. He was scared, plain and simple. Scared that Wolf would judge him and find him lacking. Scared that Wolf would _hate_ him.

He didn't think he could bear that.

He sighed.

"Because, once you know, you'll wish you didn't," he said, eventually.

"Bullshit," spat Wolf, forcibly. "And even if it's true you should tell me – you can't make a decision like that for someone else."

"Fine!" exclaimed Alex, "Fine! You really want to know? I killed someone. And, no, I'm not sorry. I murdered them in cold blood for something as simple as revenge and feel absolutely zero regret because they _deserved_ to die."

Wolf was staring at him. Whatever he had been expecting, it obviously wasn't that.

"Oh," continued Alex, his voice still raised, half in anger and half in hysteria, "And I slept with someone that night I stayed out. A _woman._ And _I enjoyed it._"

He stood there, chest heaving, staring at Wolf in almost accusatory desperation, as the enormity of what he had just done crashed down upon him.

"Oh, shit."

_**A/N: So please don't tell me Alex is OOC. I know he isn't exactly the same as in the books, but that is due to what he's been through. His life has hardly been a piece of cake, has it?**_

_**Mmm... cake...**_

_**Damn, now I'm hungry.**_

_**So yeah, review and tell me what you thought? Please? Pretty Please?**_

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	10. Chapter 9

_**A/N: So a new chapter, and the plot moves foreward dramatically. Few things I want to say to you first – 1. I've finished mapping out the plot, though there are parts that I'll be building up with subplot etc Also, anything you think I need to tie up and haven't, please tell me. Chances are I've already picked up on it, but just in case! 2. There is a poll on my profile that is asking whether I should include a Tom/Yuri pairing, with Yuri flirting outrageously and Tom blushing and not knowing if he's being serious. Alternatively, it could be one-sided, with Tom being as straight as a ruler... hmmm, I need to add that as an option. I'll do it as soon as this is posted.**_

_**DISCLAIMER: Nothing you recognise belongs to me.**_

_**WARNINGS: Violence, swearing.**_

-o-O-o-

This really wasn't good. Jesus _Christ_, he was supposed to be a spy – able to keep secrets and act as if nothing was wrong. If he'd pulled that stunt on a mission he'd probably be dead already. Why had he done it? To get back at Wolf? For what? The man hadn't done anything wrong and that was incredibly childish besides. Plus, it would be far worse for him than Wolf, so that theory _really_ didn't make sense.

Could it be that he felt bad about keeping secrets from Wolf? The man had said he didn't have to, but then, he'd hardly told Wolf every detail of his life so far, had he? And he didn't really want to, either... did he?

"You. Killed. Someone," said Wolf, his voice dead and flat. Somehow it was worse than yelling.

Alex anxiously ran a hand through his hair, then immediately cursed himself for doing so. He couldn't afford to show that much emotion at the moment. He would get through this. Nothing lasts forever, though he couldn't see how this argument could end well, or soon.

"Yes," he said, curtly. Keep it short. Keep it simple. Keep it emotionless.

"Why?"

"Revenge. He put Yuri in hospital."

"That's not a good reason," hissed Wolf, his eyes practically spitting fire with his suppressed rage.

"It's good enough for me."

"It's against the _law!_"

Alex rolled his eyes. "Don't acts so surprised, Wolf," he said, coldly. "You saw me kill someone – deliberately – when I was fourteen without showing an ounce of regret. Or did you think that I thought the explosion would simply lightly burn him?"

"_That_ was on a mission," Wolf pointed out.

"So?" said Alex, raising an eyebrow. "They both deserved to die; I fail to see the difference."

"If you don't feel guilty about it, then why didn't you want to tell me?" asked Wolf. He looked as if he thought he had scored a point.

"Because you probably don't have the same morality as I do. You're a soldier. You follow orders. I'm a spy. I'm sent off to stop someone using whatever methods necessary. I'm trusted to make the right decisions for the '_greater good'._I'll kill someone without regret if I think they need to die. I resigned myself to the fact long ago that I have to live with blood on my hands so that people like Yuri can live a life without fear and so people like you can have the simple jobs."

Wolf stared at the teen. He'd said the entire thing with almost no emotion, as if it wasn't a big deal, wasn't worth wasting time thinking about.

"And you think that justifies going around killing whoever you like?" the soldier asked, eventually.

Alex shrugged. "I'd rather trust my judgement than someone else's," he said, simply.

Wolf pursed his lips and frowned. "Maybe you should see someone... a doctor..." the soldier suggested, cautiously.

Alex stiffened.

"I don't need to see a shrink just because my morality isn't identical to yours," he snarled.

"That's some _seriously_ messed up morality," spat Wolf, shifting away from Alex as if disgusted.

Alex's eyes narrowed. "It means that _your_ morality can be nice and crisp and clean. It means that _you_ don't have to worry about whether something is right or wrong. It's easy to judge when it's not you decision, isn't it?" he hissed. "So _don't_judge me. You didn't for killing Grief - you have no right to for this."

He whirled around and headed towards the door. "I'm going to find Yuri," he said. "I don't want to talk to you right now."

Wolf didn't say anything, simply sat, glaring at the teen's retreating back.

Alex closed the door with a sigh.

This was going to be a long night.

-o-O-o-

It was completely dark when Alex got back. He hadn't found any trace of Yuri and, after having arguments with both of his flatmates, he wasn't in the best of moods.

He cursed quietly when he hit his hand on the door handle as he tried to slip the key into the lock in the almost pitch black of the hall.

He was still cursing, though more from general anger at the world, as he pushed open the door and slipped through into the silent flat. Wolf must have gone to bed, he guessed. He wished he knew where Yuri was staying tonight.

Suddenly, hands reached out of the dark and grabbed him. He immediately began to struggle and was gratified to feel at least one set be knocked off, but his relief was short lived because it was quickly replaced by more hands and he felt himself being dragged to his knees.

He was pushed to the floor, his cheek pressed firmly against the floorboards. He snarled and still struggled, but the weight on his back was heavy enough that he knew he would never dislodge it – it was difficult enough to breathe with it pressing on his chest like that.

The light snapped on.

Still gasping for air, his neck straining backwards in desperation, he looked around as best he could before a hand grabbed his hair and jerked him to a standstill.

A pair of boots entered his narrow field of vision and he heard a mocking chuckle.

"Alex Rider," sneered a voice. "You're not quite what I would have expected, I have to admit."

Alex snarled and began to struggle again, though he knew it was hopeless.

"Spirited at least," murmured the voice, thoughtfully. "Sorry, boy, but you're coming with us."

The boot met his head violently and Alex felt himself losing consciousness.

The last thing he saw before he passed out was Wolf's motionless body, lying in a growing pool of blood.

_If Wolf was dead_, he thought as the darkness claimed him, _he would destroy them_.

-o-O-o-

He woke to the feel of silk against his skin and a soft cushion under his head. He blinked, once, in confusion then began the usual checks.

He wasn't tied up which was a good thing, he guessed. He wasn't waking up on a concrete floor - again, a good thing, no doubt about it. But the last thing he remembered was being knocked unconscious. Which was most definitely not a good thing. Ever.

Wearily, he sat up, putting a hand to his head in a vain attempt to still the throbbing. He winced slightly as his fingers traced over the tender bruise and slightly scabbed cut near his temple. No wonder he had a headache. At least he didn't feel dizzy or nauseous, so he didn't think he had concussion.

Ignoring the pain, he began to inspect his surroundings. He was lying on a chaise-longue type thing in what appeared to be a very luxurious, if slightly old fashioned, sitting room. It was the kind of place that wouldn't look out of place in a manor house in the Victorian Era.

Naturally, it only heightened his confusion.

"So you're awake then?" asked a gruff voice behind him, and he quickly twisted in his seat.

"Wolf!" he exclaimed, relieved. "You're alive! Are you ok? You were bleeding."

Wolf grunted. "I'm fine. The bastards shot me in the leg, but apparently they tended to it while I was unconscious. How about you? That's quite a nasty head injury you've got there."

"Well," said Alex, "I've got one hell of a headache, but apart from that, I'm okay."

"Good," said Wolf.

"Wolf..." began Alex, nervously biting his lip. "I'm really sorry about... well, you know... the argument and all. I... I'll see a shrink or whatever you want when we get out of here, I promise."

He didn't regret killing Platt - he _didn't_ – but he did regret telling Wolf like that. His heart had almost stopped when he saw Wolf lying so still and it drove home exactly how devastated Alex would be if he managed to alienate the soldier.

Wolf hesitated, then nodded. "I'm just worried about you," he confessed, reaching a hand out to squeeze Alex's shoulder.

"And..." started Alex again. "I'm... I'm sorry about the woman too. I shouldn't have done that. It wasn't fair."

Slowly, leaning heavily on it, Wolf walked around the chaise-longue to sit next to Alex.

"I'm not mad about that," he said smiling slightly. "You told me straight you couldn't be with me and I guess I understand how it would be different with her."

Alex smiled, gratefully, but Wolf wasn't finished.

"Just one thing," he continued, his soft smile widening into an outright smirk.

"This woman... was she better than me?"

-o-O-o-

That night they went to bed together for what felt like the first time in an age. The sex was slow and sensual and had Alex moaning with desire and pleasure.

He didn't feel a sense of triumph at throwing off the last effects of Yassen's... intrusion. He didn't think about the man at all which, when he remembered, would make him smile tightly, but for now it was just them.

They fell asleep in the early hours of the morning, both sated and exhausted and completely relaxed, or as relaxed as they could get while trapped in a room they couldn't escape from.

But even that fact couldn't keep the small, unconscious smile from Alex's lips as he slept.

-o-O-o-

_**A/N: So what did you think? Please review!**_


	11. Chapter 10

_**A/N: So apparently I'm getting better at updating, touch wood. Thanks again for all the wonderful reviews, especially MercurialInk for what is probably the longest review I've ever received. It was epic.**_

_**WARNINGS: Swearing, violence reference to character death, insults to goats.**_

_**DISCLAIMER: Nothing you recognise belongs to me.**_

-o-O-o-

He was pulled roughly from sleep by grasping, groping hands. He struggled, lashing out but, still sleepy and uncoordinated, it was all too easy for his assailants to overpower him and handcuff his hands behind his back.

"For fuck's sake," cursed a voice as he lashed out with a foot. "Stop struggling, boy. We're not going to hurt you!"

Alex wasn't stupid enough to take their word for it, but he did stop struggling, eventually rising to his feet with the aid of an unknown hand under his elbow.

Wolf was still on the bed, looking warily at the gun targeted between his eyes.

"Come along, boy," said the man who had spoken before. "The boss wants to see you."

-o-O-o-

He managed to somehow gain a pair of trousers on the way, but the chill in the air raised goose bumps on his bare arms and chest as he as pushed into a crowded room. It was lined with equipment and the wall at the back was given over to TV screens, each showing a different room.

"Mr Rider," said a man, turning way from the equipment. "How nice of you to join us."

"I guess that you would be 'the boss'," drawled Alex. "Tell me, why do all villains seem to think that acting politely when they introduce themselves will make up for trying to cut you up later?"

The man simply laughed.

"You guessed right," he said after a moment. "I am... 'the boss'. My name is Max Abana."

"Great," said Alex. "Am I supposed to have heard of you?"

"I hope not," said the man. "We wouldn't be very good if everyone knew who we were, would it?"

Alex sighed. "Can we please just get to the point? I know all of this is traditional, something you all seem to love, but I've been through this _far_ too many times and, frankly, it's boring."

Abana raised his eyebrows. "Ok," he said, after a moment. "Let's cut to the chase. In the last two years, MI6 has become infinitely more effective and we've been hearing rumours of a 'secret weapon' and, though most of the time the speakers seemed to be joking, we came to the conclusion that this secret weapon actually existed and we began to try to track it down. After all, we don't want MI6 to have a significant advantage. We kidnapped agents but none seemed to know what we were talking about. Some seemed to have an idea, but we didn't believe them when they talked of a rumour of a teenager. We searched for months, but no one could tell us anything until we came across someone who, after several sessions with our interrogation expert, gave us a name. Alex Rider. You."

Abana paused for a moment to eye the half-naked teenager in front of him. His face was expressionless. Muscles lightly covered him, apparent but not completely overwhelming, and not hiding the scars that disfigured his skin, either. He had the grace and menace of a predator waiting to spring. Looking at him, Abana could well believe the rumours.

"Imagine our surprise when we discovered that you did exist and were, as we had been led to believe, a teenager. We even got an address after Wilson found a lead. Though I hear the man is now dead. A pity for you that he wasn't killed a few hours earlier. We know a lot about you, Alex Rider. We know you have been living under the name of Greg for the last few months. We know you worked at the Fox and Hen under that name and shared a flat with a boy-whore named Yuri."

Suddenly Alex lunged forward, only to be restrained by the men standing behind him.

"What have you done to him, you bastard?" he demanded.

Abana looked surprised. "We haven't done anything to him. An apparently random mugger waylaid him in an alley the night before last and stole his house keys. Poor Yuri was found a few hours later and taken to hospital."

"You fucking bastard," hissed Alex, his voice low with menace.

"Oh dear," said Abana. "I see you're lacking in the creativity front."

"You're the son of a goat who doesn't have the basic decency to curl up under a rock and die. You deserve to have your ball sack cut off and shoved so far down your throat that you choke on it." Alex paused and sneered at his captor. "Creative enough for you?"

Again the man laughed. "Creative indeed. But you have no need to worry about Yuri. He has already been released from hospital. The only people we have seriously hurt are your soldier friend – apologise to him for the bullet wound when you next see him, will you? We really don't support random violence, but he was _fighting_ so – and Ben Daniels, the agent."

Alex froze. "Where is the agent, now?" he asked, his voice emotionless in an attempt to hide his fear.

"I'm afraid we had to kill him. There really was no chance of him returning to full health – our interrogator is really quite skilled – and it seemed cruel to keep him in captivity when we had no further use for him. And, of course, we couldn't just release him. It really was a kindness."

Alex didn't snarl. He didn't break down and cry. He didn't even glare at the man. He simply stood there, pushing his grief aside until such a time as he could get revenge on this twisted, self-righteous man in front of him. He wouldn't show any weakness in front of Ben's murderer.

"So you're going to kill me," he said, heavily.

"Of course we're not," said Abana, apparently surprised.

"Wait," said a deadly, familiar voice from the corner, "What?"

Alex span around.

"You!" he exclaimed. "What... How... What are you doing here?"

The newcomer sneered. "I work here... Alex."

"Yes," said Abana, thoughtfully, "Wilson did mention that he knew you."

"You could say that," said Alex, his eyes narrowing as he observed his former landlord.

"I thought the plan was to kill the brat," said Wilson, his voice heavy with anger and loathing.

"After we went to all this trouble to capture him?" asked Abana, surprised. "Why would you think that? But don't worry, Wilson, you'll have your chance at him. We need to make him submit before we can make him work for us."

"_Work_ for you?" said Alex, incredulously. "Never going to happen. Sorry. You beat up, shoot and kidnap my friends. You sell weapons and are _obviously_ an enemy of the state if MI6 busted the deal – even though you claim they know next to nothing about you. And I'm pretty goddamn certain you're going to do something horrible to me – people generally do."

Abana sighed. "I really was hoping you'd just agree. Oh well, at least Wilson will be happy to see you suffer."

"_See_?" protested Wilson.

"Sorry, but you're too emotionally involved. We can't afford any mistakes," said Abana. "We'll be giving Alex to Krugar to work over, I'm afraid, but I'm sure he would welcome spectators."

Wilson pursed his lips slightly, but nodded.

"Good. If you would be so kind as to take Alex to him? I know that Krugar is looking forward to his visitor."

-o-O-o-

Alex was in a well lit room. The walls and floor were white and covered in tiles. There was a drain in the centre. Alex was in the perfect position to see it – he was hanging right above it, after all. The blood was rushing to his head and he could barely feel his feet. His arms were hanging below him, tied together and weighted down, and he was swinging gently.

Krugar would be here in a second. Wilson had told him so. Had hissed it at him, along with a comment about how much he was looking forward to hearing him scream. Alex had ignored him. The taunts of someone who simply couldn't let things go were hardly his top priority at the moment.

The door opened and Alex tried to twist around to see the new comer, but all he managed to do was set himself swinging again.

A pair of hands, gripping either side of his waist, stilled him.

A man walked into his view.

"Krugar, I presume?" said Alex.

"Of course," said the man. Alex recognised his voice as the man from the apartment. "I'd shake your hand but I think it might be... awkward."

"Probably," said Alex. It was a struggle to talk - hard enough to simply breathe with his entire body weight painfully stretching out his torso, compressing his lungs and making his diaphragm work twice as hard.

"Now, I'm going to give you one more opportunity to give the right answer," he said, crouching down so that his head was level with Alex's. "Will you work for us?"

"Fuck... you..." said Alex, in a tight voice, trying to draw in a deep breath but only able to speed his shallow breathing.

"If that's the way you feel..." said Krugar, a small smile playing on his lips.

He never even saw it coming. There was simply a small hiss in the air behind him and a burning pain across his back as something dug deep into his flesh.

Alex yelled.

Krugar laughed and stood up. "I said Wilson could have the first batch. I hope you don't mind, do you, Alex?"

Alex could only groan, the pain having driven all the air from his lungs.

Krugar chuckled again. "Twenty lashes should do to start with, Wilson."

The whip crashed down again.

-o-O-o-

_**A/N: So I've got a friend coming over for a few days tomorrow, so I won't be updating until the second half of the week, but if I get lots of nice reviews, I'll probably be motivated enough to have the chapter out before Friday!**_

_**(Yeah, I'm trying to bribe you into reviewing. Is it working?)**_


	12. Chapter 11

_**A/N: So the before-Friday thing didn't happen, but it's before the weekend, so I'm sure you won't mind too much!**_

_**WARNINGS: Torture, brainwashing, possibly some sexual situations/slash. Oh, probably need one for language as well.**_

_**Disclaimer: Nothing you recognise belongs to me.**_

-o-O-o-

They didn't stop at twenty. Of course they didn't. Mentally, Alex had counted, desperation entering his thoughts as the number approached. He'd let out a sigh and stopped tensing, only to feel the burning pain of the whip as it bit into his flesh. The two men laughed.

They had swapped, after that, taking turns to shred his skin. He knew it wasn't going to cause lasting damage. If the whip strokes had been strong enough for that he would have passed out from blood loss by now and anyway, they wouldn't want his capabilities compromised if he was to work for them.

The lashes blurred into one blinding line of pain. He couldn't have said how long they continued for but by the end of it his hair had turned to red from the blood dripping down his back and he was screaming freely.

At last, Krugar walked to the wall in front of Alex and unhooked the chain keeping Alex suspended above the floor.

He crashed into the tiles with a thump. After the whipping, all this produced from his lips was a low moan.

Something stabbed into his arm and he lost consciousness.

-o-O-o-

He awoke to darkness. He shivered. It was cold and a faint breeze was blowing on the back of his neck. He was lying on his back and his wounds were throbbing in agony.

He groaned and pushed himself up on his elbow. His head bumped into something.

Momentarily, he stopped breathing, before he began again, almost hyperventilating.

Panicking, he thrust out his hands to either side and kicked upwards. He was in a box.

"No," he muttered. "No, no, no, no, no!"

It wasn't small spaces he had a problem with. It was being trapped in small spaces. No way out, nowhere to move. He could feel tremors of terror running down his spine and forced himself to lie still, to calm his breathing.

They weren't going to let him starve to death, they wanted him alive.

But he could hear something, gurgling down the pipes behind his neck.

Water. They were going to drown him.

-o-O-o-

Yuri groaned as he came around. The last thing he remembered was two men stopping him on his way home, asking him directions. He really should have known it was a trick.

Five minutes later, a nurse walked in holding a clipboard. She stopped dead when she saw him looking at her.

"Oh, you're awake," she said, stupidly.

"Yes," he said slowly, nodding his head. "When can I get out of here?" he asked.

"Erm... well, there's... there's no long term damage. No broken bones or internal bleeding. Just a touch of concussion. We should be able to let you out tomorrow morning. In fact, we might be able to let you out this afternoon... there's just someone who wants to speak to you, first."

Yuri frowned slightly. Who would be visiting him? Well, there was only one way to find out.

"Ok, then," he said, "Where are they?"

A man appeared at the door.

"Yuri," he said, unsmilingly, "How are you feeling?"

"I'm ok," he said cautiously. "I'm sorry, but I don't think we've met...?"

"Of course, I am sorry, I'm John Crawley. I work at the Royal and General bank."

Yuri sat bolt upright. An MI6 agent coming to visit him couldn't be anything good.

"What happened?"

"Someone kidnapped Mr Rider and Wolf."

Yuri paled. "Have you found them? Are they ok? Where are they now?"

Crawley frowned. "We don't know where they are, or how they are. In fact, we were hoping you could help us with that. We believe that the people who attacked you might have taken your house keys... they weren't on your person and we doubt you would have left them behind."

"I had them on me," confirmed Yuri, his lips tensing with worry.

"And the men who took them? Can you tell me anything about them?"

Yuri shook his head miserably. "They wore suits and carried briefcases. I thought they were businessmen." His voice started as a whisper, but he was wailing by the end.

"I see," said Crawley, standing up. "Thank you for your time, Yuri."

He left.

-o-O-o-

_The water was rising and he couldn't stop his breath from coming in ragged, terrified pants. He drew in one, last deep breath and the water covered his nose._

-o-O-o-

"So we have no clue as to who took them, and no idea about where they are," said Mr Blunt, frowning. "We will have people search the CCTV cameras from the relevant time slot, there must be something."

Mrs Jones nodded. "I'll send the order through, sir."

"How about Agent Daniels? Have we received a report from him, yet?"

"Not in several weeks," said Mrs Jones, succinctly.

"Report him MIA and send in a group of soldiers to search the area. Standard procedures."

"Of course," said Mrs Jones. "I'll start it now."

-o-O-o-

_There is a point when you can no longer hold your breath voluntarily. Alex knew his was fast approaching. He breathed._

-o-O-o-

Wolf scowled. He'd been here for three days now and still Alex had not come back. Meals had been brought and the plates cleared by armed guards and he'd found a bathroom attached to the bedroom. It was almost exactly like a suit in a posh hotel, with the single exception that he couldn't leave, which was slightly dispiriting.

If only he knew what had happened to Alex.

-o-O-o-

_Was he dead? He couldn't feel his body. His consciousness floated in darkness. It sounded like he was dead but... somehow he had expected death to be more... well more something. Not just... this. But he couldn't be anything else, could he? It certainly wasn't life._

Then there was light. Something was pulling him forward. He coughed until his lungs were burning, liquid pouring out of his mouth. It burnt. Oh, Lord, how is burnt. He wanted to go back to the calm, watery silence. _Has this happened before?_

Maybe... he couldn't be sure about anything at the moment.

There was a voice speaking to him, but he couldn't focus. There were feet all around him and he realised he was on a floor.

"Wh... What happened?" he asked, shakily.

"Shh..." said the voice. "Calm down, Alex. You're safe. You can trust us. We just want what's best for you."

A hand grasped his chin firmly and a light was shone into his eyes. Automatically, he pulled away. He didn't know these people.

"It's not working," murmured a voice. "Why isn't it working?"

"I don't know. It should be – especially with the torture beforehand. We'll have to try something else."

Alex tried to stand up, to turn to face the voices, but his legs were weak. There was a hand under his arm.

"Come on, Alex," said a voice – a new one, he noted absently. "Let's get you some clothes, shall we?"

"Where am I?" he asked, still disorientated.

"You're safe," soothed the voice. "Just come with me."

"Right..." said Alex, obviously unsure.

He was led down a corridor and to a door. The man beside him had an arm around his waist to keep him upright and he was shivering with cold, so it was a relief when they halted in front of a door.

The man pulled a key from his pocket and unlocked it, before leading Alex through.

There was another man inside, rising to his feet with anger obvious on his face.

"What did you do to him?" the newcomer snarled.

The man supporting Alex simply laughed. "Keep your teeth to yourself, soldier, or I'll shoot the kid."

There was something cold resting on his shoulder and Alex twisted around in confusion.

"What's going on?" he asked, turning towards the man holding him and gripping his shirt. "Where are we?"

"Calm, Alex," said the man. "You're safe with me. Sit down here, now, ok?"

Alex nodded and let himself be lowered to a chaise-longue.

"Where are you going?" he mumbled tiredly.

"Just sleep, Alex," said the man as he turned to leave. "I'll be back to see you soon."

Alex slept.

-o-O-o-

Wolf frowned, staring at Alex's sleeping form. He had seemed so confused when they brought him back. Confused... and weak.

Wolf wanted, no, he _needed_ to know what they had done to him. Alex had seemed... defenceless, almost. Dependant on that bastard who had been practically carrying him and _happy_about it. And why was he naked? What had they done to him?

Wolf growled and turned abruptly away to pace impatiently around the luxurious room that was his cage.

A small moan jerked him back around.

"Alex?" he whispered hoarsely.

"Mmm... wha'? Wolf?"

"Yeah, yeah, it's me," said Wolf, reaching out a hand to help Alex sit up. He recognised him at least, that had to be an improvement, right?

"What happened?" he asked, looking at the teen worriedly. "What did they do?"

"I... I think I died," said Alex, frowning confusedly. "Again and again... I was in a box and it filled with water and I drowned. And then they came and pulled me out."

Wolf growled. Isolation units had been researched for years now. The perfluorocarbons could carry enough oxygen for a human to breathe the liquid, and it was sometimes used for life support with premature babies, he seemed to remember. Its use had been suggested for psychological interrogation techniques and been quickly discarded. Even the most fastidious patriot believed that making someone believe he was going to die, was dead, over and over again was sick.

"I hate drowning," murmured Alex, moving his face towards the crook of Wolf's neck and hiding there. "Too much... too many... too close."

"I'm going to take a shower," he said, after a moment, moving away from Wolf.

Wolf frowned after the blonde's retreating back. Not once had he blamed their captor's. The only thing he had attributed to them was removing him from the tank, which would probably be seen as a good thing from his point of view.

Alex emerged from the shower feeling much more like himself and just in time to eat the food they brought in.

"So how long was I gone?" he asked, as he pulled a plate of pasta towards himself, hungrily.

"Four days," growled Wolf, angrily.

"Seriously?" said Alex, surprised. "I didn't think it had been that long."

Wolf tried to relax, he really did, but he couldn't. The way Alex was acting wasn't _natural_. It wasn't the way a torture victim should act. He was acting as if nothing had happened.

He didn't even seem angry that they were essentially prisoners, which, from everything Wolf had learnt about Alex, was completely out of character.

"Any ideas on how we can get out of here?" asked Wolf, in an attempt to garner a reaction from Alex.

"Get out of here?" asked Alex, apparently surprised and not a little confused by the question.

"Yeah," said Wolf, forcibly calm. "You know, escape?"

"Why would we want to escape?" asked Alex, bewilderedly. "This is hardly a jail cell, is it?"

"Well there is the small fact that you disappeared for four days and have come back covered in _whip marks_ and after having been repeatedly _drowned_," snarled Wolf.

"Oh," said Alex, a frown marring his brow. He looked down at his torso. "_Oh."_

His jaw tensed and his eyes hardened. "Those _bastards_," he cursed.

"What?" asked Wolf.

"They tried to _brainwash_ me!" he exclaimed, angrily. "They wanted me to work for them! Those sick _bastards!"_

"Again with the creativity, Rider," said a voice from the door.

Both of them turned around. "Abana," growled Alex.

"Yes, it's me," said Abana, openly. "It's a real shame that our plan didn't work, but apparently you have more mental strength than we thought. It was only semi-effective. Now, if you would please come with me, Mr Rider."

Alex scowled as a gun was lowered at them and got to his feet. Wolf quickly raised a hand to stop him, but backed down when Alex glared at him.

"That's right," mocked Abana. "Stay put like a good little soldier, now."

Wolf sneered, but Abana's attention had already reverted to Alex.

They left the room.

-o-O-o-

Alex was taken back to the control room. Wilson was there, again, but the other men who had been there last time had disappeared. Abana gestured to a seat and Alex sat. There really was no point protesting about things like that – it just made him seem childish.

"So, Rider," said Abana. "We tried to do this the nice way and it, unfortunately, failed. So we're going to have to do this the not-so-nice way."

Alex raised an eyebrow, wishing once again that villains weren't so caught up in grandstanding and had the ability to get straight to the point.

"We really do need you to work for us, Rider, and so we're going to make you a deal."

"There's nothing you can offer me that would make me work for you," said Alex, contemptuously.

"Oh, really?" said Abana, raising an eyebrow. "What about the life of the soldier?"

Alex simply looked back at the man emotionlessly, though inside he was terrified. "And why would I put the life of one soldier above the life of so many?" he bluffed, his voice cold.

"Well, maybe not a soldier," admitted Abana, "But how about your lover?"

For the first time, Alex's expression flickered uncertainly and his gaze was drawn to the large screen at the back. Though blank before, it now showed the bedroom they had been put in and, on the bed, himself and Wolf.

Alex snarled, wordlessly, as he saw himself moan under Wolf's skilful ministrations, then quickly looked away as he felt himself stir with faint desire. Wilson, he noted with disgust, was watching avidly.

"We have the entire room wired with plastic explosives," said Abana. "Semtex, packed into the wall cavities. I can detonate it at any time. Either you follow my orders, or you say goodbye to your... friend."

"Can I have some time to think about it?" asked Alex, desperate to buy himself time to think of a way out.

"Of course," said Abana congenially. "Wilson, take him to... yes, why not? Lock him in the disposal room."

Alex didn't struggle as he was led away, though he did angrily shrug off the hand that Wilson placed on his shoulder, forcibly suppressing the faint shiver of disgust that the touch caused and avoiding looking at the man until they stopped outside a heavy metal door.

"It's not very nice in there," said Wilson. "If you wanted... I could take you somewhere else."

Alex frowned at him suspiciously.

"My rooms, for example," said Wilson, raising a hand to caress Alex's cheek. "I'm sure you could... _persuade_ me not to tell the boss..."

Alex jerked backwards. "I don't think so," he said coldly.

The leer fell off Wilson's face. "Fine," he scowled. "In you go then."

He yanked open the door and shoved Alex through, causing the teen to trip and fall down the steps leading into the room.

"Have a nice time, Rider," sneered the man, before slamming the door closed and leaving Alex in darkness.

-o-O-o-

_**A/N: So any guesses on what is in the disposal room? What do you think Alex will decide? Or do you think he'll find a way out of it? Come on, I'm curious to know what you think.**_

_**Oh, and about the Yuri/Tom pairing. I have 23% for yes, 23% for no and 23% for one-sided, with the rest made up from the other three choices. In other words, it was singularly the least helpful poll I have found. I have decided, therefore to put the Yuri/Tom plot line in a side story called Shadows of the Past. It will reference Past of Shadows, and will be referenced to, but will not affect the overall plot of PoS. You can read it or not as you feel like. It won't be posted for a while though, I'm afraid!**_

_**So what did you think of the chapter? Review and tell me!**_

_**PS. Bonus points to anyone who can tell me where I got the idea for Isolation Tanks and Perfluorocarbons from! Yes, they do exist, no they aren't science fiction, and neither is liquid breathing! I almost didn't believe it when I researched it!**_


	13. Chapter 12

_**A/N: Another update! Yay!**_

_**WARNINGS: Graphic descriptions of death. Swearing. Wilson. (yes, he's now getting a warning all of his own. I really dislike him! He is kinda fun to write though...)**_

_**DISLCAIMER: Unfortunately, I don't have the genius to come up with Alex on my own. That honour belongs to Anthony Horrowitz. As does everything you recognise.**_

-o-O-o-

It didn't take long for Alex to realise that it wasn't complete darkness. In fact, his eyes adjusted fairly quickly to the gloom.

Cautiously, he looked around, his straining eyes just resolving three shapes half hidden in the shadows. Cautiously, wincing every time his movement tore at one of his whip marks, he made his way closer to the nearest shape.

It didn't take him long to realise it was a person, lying on the ground.

"Hello?" he called, softly. "Are you ok?"

There was no response. He edged closer, reaching out a hand to shake the motionless shoulder.

It was unnaturally stiff, he noticed. For a moment he stopped breathing, before forcing himself to restart, taking deep, slow, steady breaths.

He raised a hand to the guy's cheek. It was clammy, and as cold as the air around him.

He jerked back with an oath, scrambling backwards until his back hit the wall.

They'd locked him in a room with a _corpse_.

With trepidation, his eyes flickered to the other two shadowy figures. They _could_ be alive. They _could_ still be living, breathing humans.

The second one was dead. A quick touch to the stone-cold hand confirmed it quickly enough, and Alex quickly backed away.

Intellectually, he knew that a corpse couldn't hurt him. Intellectually, he knew that this was just another psychological tactic to get him to give in.

The problem was, he thought it might be working. He couldn't help but picture Wolf's face in place of the unfamiliar features, cold and clammy, staring at him with vacant eyes.

Could he really let him die when he could do something to prevent it? Could he live with himself afterwards?

Could he kill someone just to save him?

Alex didn't know the answer. Shaking his head to clear it of the frantic, over flowing thoughts, he turned towards the final figure. He already knew it would be just as dead as the others, but he had to check. Just in case.

This time he didn't even need to touch them in order to confirm it. No-one who looked like that could possibly be alive.

Quietly, he crawled over to the wall and emptied his stomach, trying to look anywhere but at the body. But he couldn't help it; morbid curiosity dragged his gaze reluctantly back to the decimated corpse.

Half of its head had been blown away, leaving brain and bone and blood on sickening display. Already nauseous again, he jerked his eyes down, easily ignoring the signs of torture. After the bullet wound – for that was what it would have had to be – such things were trivial.

Less easy to ignore were the thin lips and high cheekbones, the square features and shock of dark hair.

"Ben," whispered Alex, brokenly.

-o-O-o-

Twenty-four hours later, Alex once more stood in front of Abana

"So?" asked the man. "Have you decided?"

Alex swallowed and looked at the man, dejectedly. He didn't really have a choice. He'd already lost Ben. He couldn't lose Wolf too.

"I'll do it."

-o-O-o-

Alex didn't look good when he finally returned to the room forty-eight hours after he left. He was wet through, his hair plastered to his white forehead.

"Alex," growled Wolf, leaping to his feet and across the room, pulling the shaking teen towards the bathroom for a hot shower.

"What happened?" he asked, glaring at the world in general. "Why are you so wet – they didn't put you in an isolation tank again, did they?"

Alex shook his head. "Was raining," he mumbled.

Wolf's eyes widened, hopefully, as Alex slipped into the shower and turned it on.

"You got out? How? How did they get you back? Are you hurt?"

"They let me out and I came back," said Alex, dull from behind the plain white shower curtain.

"WHAT?" roared Wolf, pulling back the plastic. "You had a chance to get _away_ and you didn't take it? Why the hell not?"

Alex stared at him, and Wolf slowly felt himself flushing as he found himself face to face with a very wet, very naked teenager.

"Sorry," he muttered, pulling the curtain closed again. "Look, we'll discuss this when you get out, yeah?"

-o-O-o-

Alex was sitting on the sofa, Wolf perched on the table opposite him. They were both silent, Wolf staring at Alex while Alex looked anywhere but at Wolf. He didn't deserve this concern, this _worry_. Wolf should hate him, should be beating him up, not leading him into the shower to warm him up. He shouldn't care for him. Alex was a monster.

"Why did you come back?" asked Wolf eventually, his voice low and forcibly calm.

"The walls are lined with semtex," said Alex, his eyes dropping to his knees. "If I didn't go, do what they wanted and then come back, they would have detonated it."

It was amazing how quickly that cut off the conversation.

-o-O-o-

That night, Wolf couldn't sleep. He could practically feel the explosives bearing down on him. How Alex was managing to cuddle so peacefully against him was a mystery to him, though he guessed that the teen had had a lot more experience with being captive than he had.

And if he was honest, that wasn't what was keeping him awake. Death threats he could handle. He was practically paid to handle them.

What was really worrying him was Alex. Alex, and what those bastards had made him do.

Deep down, he knew what it would be. The only thing that was worth keeping such a dangerous enemy alive.

It was exactly what the blond had been trained to do. Wolf had seen his file, looked it up after he had thought he was dead, with a little help from Ben.

Sure, the kid could do extraction and theft and surveillance. But what he'd been trained in was annihilation.

He'd never been told the appropriate measures. He was the one sent in when someone needed to be stopped at any cost, or when it was deemed an impossible mission. The total death toll of his missions was the highest in the company, both of allied and enemy agents.

He couldn't blame Alex for responding to blackmail, even at this cost. He couldn't even blame him for killing that man before. It was what he had been trained to do. A teenager turned into a weapon for MI6.

It shouldn't have happened to him. It shouldn't have happened to anyone really, but especially Alex. Alex, who had already lost his parents, his uncle, his entire family. Alex, who had been abandoned by everyone who had ever taken responsibility for him.

He had wanted to be a football player, Wolf remembered suddenly. A little titbit of conversation from Ben or Alex or someone. Before MI6 had come along, he had wanted to play professional football.

How different would the world be if he had been allowed?

Dispassionately, he would have to admit that the world was almost certainly a better place like this, but it was still a world bought with the innocence, blood and free will of a child.

Well, Alex wasn't a child any longer. Even in sleep, he looked adult.

One could call him calm, peaceful, relaxed or open, but never innocent.

He swallowed passed the lump in his throat, trying to ignore the fact that he was grieving for a childhood, when it's owner had never even realised it was missing. Somehow, Alex's ignorance made it worse.

It was a long time before he finally drifted off to sleep.

-o-O-o-

They were only left alone for two days before they came for him again – long enough for Wolf to realise Alex was shutting down, not long enough for him to do anything to help.

Wilson stood in the door, his customary leer in place on his lips.

"Are you coming, Alex?"

He didn't even have the decency to pull a gun on them. Intellectually, Alex knew he didn't have a choice, but it looked as if he did and that would hurt him more than anything, twist him around until he hated himself for killing innocents willingly and yet did it anyway.

Wolf had never felt as helpless as when he watched Alex walk out of the door.

-o-O-o-

_**A/N: So guess what? I got a new laptop! And it's **_**pretty! **_**It's small and shiny and red. And that last sentence made me sound like a magpie, didn't it? Anyway, the upshot of this is that I now have a nice, working screen that I can actually see things on, instead of having half of it hidden by blueness. Wow. Blueness is apparently a word. I don't think I've actually heard anyone use it, though. But yeah, this means it's easier to write, update and reply without a myriad of typing errors. So hopefully, I should be more reliable!**_

_**Of course, I have yet to transfer my iTunes library. It's 30 GB, I should probably start on that, shouldn't I?**_

_**BTW, does anyone have any recommendations for Harry Potter fanfics? I can't write them, but have found I'm quite in the mood to read them! Preferably centred on Harry, and not just romance. I don't mind romance, but I prefer something a little less predictable than that, so Romance isn't the main element, you know? Like this fic. Romance, sure, but not **_**just **_**romance.**_

_**And congratulations to everyone who knew I got the isolation tanks from The Lost Symbol by Dan Brown. It really is a good book, and I recommend it to anyone who hasn't read it! Hmm... should I give angels and demons a chance, do you think? I've seen the film and enjoyed it, but I've read rather a lot of Langdon recently.**_

_**(If you feel the same, try digital fortress. Is really good, and no Langdon!)**_

_**Sorry, I'm babbling slightly. I'm making up for all the really short A/N's you've been getting from when I couldn't read them!**_

_**So yeah, I'll end this now. Please review!**_


	14. Chapter 13

_**A/N: So… this is rather late, I'm afraid. I'm blaming Ichihime for recommending Saving Conner and getting me addicted to it and all the fics that followed after it. And I'm afraid I have some more bad news – I only have one chapter already written after this, and I'm going on holiday soon, so this will probably be the last update until September. Sorry. Before we get on, though, I want to say thanks for all the recommendations! I'm having a little trouble finding some of the fics because some people didn't leave authors, but I can always ask, right? Now, onto the chapter!**_

_**DISCLAIMER: Nothing you recognise belongs to me.**_

_**WARNINGS: Death,**_

-o-O-o-

It was early when Tulip Jones got the call. She had yet to go home. Twelve hours ago, the body of Ben Daniels had been found – tortured and with a bullet in his skull. That alone would have made it a difficult night but another body of another agent had been found in almost identical condition, minus the shot to the head, had been found on the bottom of the Thames – a group of biology students were studying local ecosystems and had dredged him up.

He wasn't supposed to have anything to do with Daniels' case.

Alan Blunt didn't believe in coincidence, nor did Tulip Jones. Both had worked all night, with a full team of agents, to go over the facts of any agent found dead in London without a known killer. The results were worrying: twelve agents who had been interrogated in a similar fashion, plus five informers and the two new bodies found last night.

And their best and youngest agent had been missing until around five minutes ago.

It was understandable that she was relieved to hear that Alex Rider had been spotted on CCTV. She always had had a soft spot for the boy.

"Send a team of SAS and John Crawley to pick him up," she instructed. "Ensure that paramedics are on hand."

She just hoped that Blunt could be persuaded not to send Alex to investigate the deaths. He'd been out of the field for too long: his training would need refreshing and policy would dictate that they give him a complete psych evaluation, something she doubted Alex would pass at the moment. But Blunt had always been willing to waive the rules when it came to their youngest agent.

She just hoped Alex was okay.

-o-O-o-

They only told him who to kill, everything else was left up to his discretion and he had quickly hit upon the method he preferred. Poison was very, very rarely used as an offensive weapon. It was all too easy for an accident to occur and for the blade, or whatever had been coated in the poison, to cut the wielder – even the most skilled blade master would occasionally have accidents after all. But Alex hadn't gone for a blade, nor had he poisoned his target's food or drink. Instead, he had coated a needle in a poison that would kill within minutes. He would simply accidentally stumble into his target, jab them briefly with the needle while apologising then move on. There was a small chance they'd notice the prick, but in the commotion, the chances were they would brush it off.

He would be at the other end of the street by the time they died, just close enough to make sure they did, and far enough away to waylay suspicion. The authorities would spend hours going through everything the victim had eaten or drunk for the last two days and not find anything, and if the needle mark was noticed, their minds would first spring to vaccinations and drugs. Only once both of those had been ruled out would they work it out.

And it was just one jab of a needle. It didn't feel like murder until they collapsed to the ground and by that point it was too late for him to back out.

His second victim had just fallen still, when he spotted the soldiers at the end of the street.

He _should_ have stayed stationary. He _should_ have tried to bluff his way out. He _should_ have done a lot of things.

But he didn't. Instead, he panicked and ran.

It was depressing how fast they caught him.

-o-O-o-

Mrs Jones looked up from the autopsies of the deceased agents as Crawley entered.

"You found him?" she asked, carefully setting the folders aside.

"We _caught_ him, ma'am," said Crawley, in a slow, deliberate tone of voice.

Mrs Jones raised an eyebrow at the inflection

"There were... problems?" she asked, concerned.

"He tried to run," said Crawley, bluntly. "We caught him and gave him a full-body search. We found these on him."

He tossed a small packet onto the desk. Cautiously, Mrs Jones pulled it towards her and opened it. Inside were a stack of perhaps ten thin silver needles.

"They have each been coated in a poison – a venom of a snake, in point of fact. It would kill a full grown man in anything between thirty seconds and two minutes, depending on their size and point of entry."

Carefully, Mrs Jones re-wrapped the needles.

"I see," she said. "Snake venom... that sounds familiar."

"Three days ago a business man that we were investigating was killed using venom. I have people checking the body for needle marks as we speak."

"You believe that _Alex_ killed him?"

"I do," said Crawley. "And another man died today, moments before we caught Rider. The body is in the autopsy lab already and I have alerted them to the possibility."

Mrs Jones frowned.

"What of his health?" she asked.

"We had the paramedics check him out after we sedated him," admitted Crawley. "He appears to have been whipped, quite severely though not hard enough to cause long lasting damage. His right shoulder is sprained, though we believe that that is from rough treatment during his capture rather than any ordeal he went through before. He has lost a large amount of weight in a short amount of time and has started biting his nails – a habit he did not previously have – at least not the last time we had access to him. I have sent off a sample of his blood for testing, but one of the medics recommended that we have a trained councillor talk to him, if at all possible."

"The shoulder..." said Mrs Jones, with a frown of displeasure.

"The medics believe that it could become a life-long injury if he does not rest it and let it heal properly," said Crawley, quietly. "This is the third time he has injured it severely enough to need medical attention in just six months."

"And did you see any evidence to support his need for a councillor?" asked Mrs Jones, her frown deepening.

"Apart from the weight loss, and biting his nails..." Crawley trailed off, obviously thinking. "In the short amount of time between capture and sedation, he did seem to have... checked out, as it were. And his reaction to seeing us was uncharacteristic at best. Rider is known for never running until the very last moment, instead trying to talk his way out if at all possible. For him to immediately take off..."

"I see," said Mrs Jones. "Thank you, Agent Crawley. You may leave. Please have the results of the blood test forwarded to me upon arrival, along with the autopsy of the man."

"Of course, Mrs Jones," said Crawley, quickly backing out of the office.

Mrs Jones sighed and popped a peppermint into her mouth. It was times like this when she regretted giving up smoking. A cigarette could have really helped right now.

So their best agent had gone rogue, possibly due to a mental disorder. This wasn't good.

She couldn't help but feel they were missing something, though. Something important.

She had already completed her review of the files by the time she realised what it was.

Alex Rider hadn't been the only one kidnapped; what had happened to Wolf?

-o-O-o-

Alex woke up in a cell. It wasn't the same one as last time he had been put in one by MI6, but it may as well have been. The only difference was the position of the screen and the toilet behind it.

Last time he had been here, it wasn't serious. This time it really was and he was man enough to admit he was nervous.

What scared him more than anything was how easy it had been for them to detain him. He knew that he wasn't in the best shape he'd ever been, but he shouldn't have deteriorated so quickly! He'd been eating and sleeping ok, hadn't he?

They'd fed him just before he left and in the room they got two meals a day. Of course he was eating ok. It's not like he was hungry, right now. If he wasn't eating enough, he would be, right?

It was most likely the lack of exercise. Their cell might be more spacious and luxurious than most cells, but it still didn't really have enough room for a proper workout. Maybe he should start practicing his kata to stay in shape. It wouldn't do him or Wolf any good if the opportunity to escape came up but Alex wasn't healthy enough to take it.

Speaking of escape, he really should get out of here. There weren't any obvious escape routes besides the door, which was locked, but someone would have to come in at some point, right? He would simply have to stay alert until they did.

It was just a waiting game from here on out.

-o-O-o-

John Lawson had been working for MI6 for three months. He had yet to be promoted to a field agent, but he knew it was just a matter of time. For now, he was content to work within the building.

He was not, however, overly impressed to be instructed to bring lunch to some brat in the cells. On the other hand, he was a professional and would follow orders without question. He could drop off the latest set of files requested to interrogation afterwards. He had them stuffed under his arm, in actual fact, so that would save him a journey.

Reaching the door to the cell, he deftly manoeuvred his key card into the lock and pushed the door open with his hip.

He never saw the blow that felled him.

-o-O-o-

The man fell to the floor as soon as Alex hit him, the tray crashing to the ground and the files scattering everywhere. It didn't take long to find the key card resting on the floor by the man's hand and he was getting up when his eyes fell on the name embossed on the closest file:

_Alex Rider_

Eyes widening, he grabbed it and stuffed it under his top, tucked into his belt to stop it from falling out, then quickly fled the room. He wouldn't have long before the guards were upon him.

-o-O-o-

It was evening by the time he had shaken off his pursuers and almost midnight by the time he arrived back at the compound. The guard subtly watching the entrance gave a startled oath as he let Alex in. Moments later Krugar appeared beside him.

"Where the hell have you been, Rider!" hissed the man, grabbing Alex by his arm and dragging him through the corridors. "You're lucky Abana wanted you here to witness the death of your lover or he'd already be dead!"

Alex swore and pulled away. "If Abana touches one hair on his head, I will not rest until he is _destroyed_."

Krugar snorted. "You could try, but I doubt you would succeed. But the soldier won't die: you did not betray us. Now hush, we are here."

He was pulled through a door to find Abana and Wilson waiting.

"Is he dead?" asked Abana. "Why are you so late?"

"He is," said Alex, looking away. _Murderer._ "My old employers arrested me for it. It took a while for me to evade them."

"You got _caught?" _shouted Abana. "Were you followed back here?"

"Do you think I'm an idiot?" snapped Alex.

A sharp slap from Krugar snapped his head to the side.

"Keep a civil tongue in your head when talking to your elders and betters," said the man calmly. Alex turned to glare at him, but the man seemed unaffected.

"I'll ask again," said Abana. "Were you followed back here?"

"No," said Alex, sullenly. "I lost them an hour before I came back here."

"Good," said Abana. "That just leaves your punishment for getting caught."

Alex's eyes flared in anger - he was not an unruly child to be punished for any misdeed they cared to name! - but he remained silent. It wasn't as if he had a choice in the matter, anyway.

"Wilson," said Abana.

"Sir?"

"Pain appears to mean little to Mr Rider. Perhaps if you were to punish the soldier for his transgressions...?"

Wilson smiled sadistically.

"Don't you _dare_!" yelled Alex. "If you _touch_ him-!"

He was cut off by another fist to his face, knocking him forward. An arm caught him and pulled him up, pressing him against a firm, unwelcome chest.

"You'll do what?" whispered Wilson, his breath ghosting over Alex's cheek. "Come on, Alex... I dare you."

Alex snarled and wrestled himself free of the mocking embrace.

Wilson laughed.

"Now, are you going to come along quietly?"

"In your dreams," spat Alex.

"No," said Krugar. "In yours."

Alex barely had time to tense before something slammed into the side of his head. Everything went black.

-o-O-o-

_**A/N: Things aren't looking too good for Wolf, are they? Poor guy. And poor Alex is looking pretty close to a mental breakdown… what do you think it would take to push him over the edge?**_

_**Anyway, review, and let me know what you thought!**_


	15. Chapter 14

_**A/N: So I'm a little late with this, sorry, I've just been so busy! Admittedly, a lot of that business was catching up on sleep. Ios was in effect just one giant club from 11pm til about 7am, so it was rare for me to go to bed before 5! But yeah, it's not all sleep, I'm off to uni in about a week and a half, and I haven't done anything yet! Though I do have an appointment at my bank to set up a student account on Monday, with a rather cute bank manager person! But yeah, cuteness aside, here's the story!**_

_**DISCLAIMER: Nothing you recognise belongs to me!**_

_**WARNINGS! PLEASE READ!: You should all know that this is slash by now. If you don't you're probably not smart enough to read, so I won't bother writing that. But, please be warned that as well as all the usual slash, swearing etc, this IS NOT A NICE CHAPTER. It has almost torture, a lot of manipulation, some violence and non-con, or dub-con at best. Oh, and unwilling voyeurism. So yeah, not a nice chapter. Sorry.**_

-o-O-o-

He was woken with a bucket of cold water. Drenched and shivering, he looked up.

A man was strapped, unconscious, to a chair in front of him.

"Wolf," he gasped, jerking forward, only to be arrested by the loud clink of metal and an unforgiving tug on his wrists.

Two heavy iron chains bolted him to the floor.

"You can't help him, Alex," said Wilson's voice behind him.

Alex spun around to glare at him.

"Those chains are only a foot long. You couldn't help _yourself_ - if my orders involved you."

"Fuck you," snarled Alex, vainly lunging forward again.

Something slammed down on his back, forcing him into concrete floor.

"I think that's my job," said Wilson, his voice right next to Alex's ear.

His weight shifted until Alex could feel a heavy boot pressing down on his spine.

"I don't think you get it, Alex. You are completely, utterly helpless."

There was a pause, and Alex felt the heaviness of despair worm its way through his blood.

"Let's wake your friend up, shall we?"

A sharp slap to the face brought Wolf around.

"Alex!" he gasped. "Are you ok?"

"I'm fine," he said dully.

When Wolf looked doubtful, Wilson laughed. "It's not Alex you need to worry about," he said. "He was late back, but it will be you who pays the price."

Slowly, he withdrew a knife from between his shoulder blades.

"Where shall we start, little Alex?" he asked. "Perhaps... an ear?" The tip of the blade gently caressed the lobe of Wolf's ear, and Wolf's eyes widened with realisation and terror.

Wilson looked thoughtful. "No," he said. "I think..."

He stabbed the knife down towards Wolf's hands, unmoveable due to the straps holding him down.

"NO!"

The knife stopped, a single bead of blood welling up around the tip where it pierced Wolf's skin. Had it completed the movement, Wolf would have lost his trigger finger.

"Something to say, Alex?" asked Wilson, a look of malice twisting his features.

Alex swallowed and pushed himself up until he was kneeling.

"Surely you have better things to do than to torture him?" he suggested, lightly, his head bowed, glancing up at Wilson through his lashes.

The knife was removed.

"Exactly what are you suggesting?" asked Wilson, stalking closer to the teenager.

Alex licked his lips nervously. "I'm sure..." he swallowed. "I'm sure I could-"

"Alex, don't do it," said Wolf, suddenly realising what Alex was suggesting. "It's not worth it."

Wilson glared at the soldier.

"I don't think he needs _your _opinion, soldier," he spat, before turning back to Alex. Slowly, he knelt in front of Alex, a single finger running up his neck, tilting his chin up until their gazes met.

"Just tell me to stop and I will," whispered Wilson, before slowly leaning in.

Alex squeezed his eyes closed as Wilson's lips met his. Yeah, he could tell him to stop, and Wilson would go back to torturing Wolf.

A hint of tongue persuaded him to open his mouth. He tried to ignore the way his heart was pounding and his skin crawling. Failed to ignore the hand that snaked around to cup the back of his head and pull him deeper into the kiss, short nails gently brushing his skin in a mockery of a caress.

Suddenly, Wilson pulled away.

"Keep your gaze on your lover," he hissed. "I want you to see the betrayal on his face. If you don't, I will pluck out his eyes."

Alex swallowed and nodded, raising his eyes to Wolf's helpless expression.

He felt his blood freeze in his veins as Wilson tugged down his jeans, but allowed himself to be manoeuvred onto his hands and knees.

Groping, too-hot hands moved up his shirt, massaging his skin and pinching his nipples... pausing, as they brushed over the thin card of the file stashed there.

"What is this, Alex?" asked Wilson, slowly withdrawing the file and examining it. Alex winced.

"So not just an assassin but a thief as well, hmmm?" said the man, raising an eyebrow. "Well this _will _make some interesting reading. Thank you."

Alex didn't move, too wary of the consequences should he look away from Wolf as the shock and doubt passed briefly over the soldier's face before his expression returned once more to tortured helplessness. Alex couldn't have looked away if he had been allowed.

God, how he hoped Wolf would forgive him for this.

Suddenly the hands were back and a finger was shoving itself inside him. He let out a strangled sob.

"Oh, that didn't sound like pleasure," murmured Wilson, moving one hand around the unwilling teen to coax his member to life, even as he continued to stretch him.

Alex felt his eyes begin to burn, and inwardly cringed. He would not cry. Not because of some lowlife like Wilson. But despite his best intentions, he couldn't stop the tears of humiliation from trickling down his face as he felt his body respond to Wilson's ministrations. He couldn't stop the gasp Wilson coaxed from his unwilling throat.

"That's more like it," murmured Wilson, pushing Alex's knees further apart and moving forward.

Alex's breathing sped up as he felt Wilson press against his entrance, pushing forward, unwanted, violating.

He couldn't do this.

Suddenly, his legs seemed to be moving on their own, wrapping around Wilson and pulling him off balance, rolling them both over until one chain was pulled taut and Alex could slam the opposing elbow into Wilson's face, over and over again until the man stopped struggling.

For a moment, he lay panting on top of the motionless figure before rolling away with a shudder.

"Alex!" called Wolf, "Alex!"

Alex looked at him but couldn't stop the strangled sobs coming out of his mouth long enough to answer.

"Does he have a key on him?" asked the soldier, his voice soft as if he was wary that Alex would break if he spoke too loud. Alex quickly turned back to haphazardly search the body.

There were two in his jacket pocket. One undid his manacles and he was quickly stumbling over to Wolf to undo his restraints, correctly guessing the purpose of the second.

Wolf gripped his shoulders and looked at him searchingly.

"Are you ok?" he asked.

"I'm fine," he said, roughly pulling up his jeans and pulling away from Wolf's concerned hands. Of course he was ok, he had to be. He couldn't be anything else right now, so he pushed away the rising hysteria. He could fall apart when they were out of here_._

"Alex..."

"Honestly, James," said Alex. "It's not all that bad, could have been a lot worse."

"Yeah, but..."

"Do you really think that this is the best time?" asked Alex, already moving towards the door. "We finally have a chance to escape and you want to waste it to ask if I'm _alright_?"

Wolf growled. "We'll talk once we're out of here."

"Great," muttered Alex, sarcastically, before raising his voice to ask, "Did Wilson have any weapons apart from the knife?"

Another quick search produced another knife and a gun. Wolf kept both, Alex already having taken the knife Wilson dropped.

"You ready?" Alex asked, scooping up the file and stowing it back against his chest, out of the way.

Wolf hesitated, then nodded assuredly.

"Okay then."

He opened the door. The first corridor was empty, which didn't surprise Alex all that much. The two of them were supposed to be chained securely and, if Wilson hadn't let his obsession get in the way of his professionalism, they would be.

And while even the weakest guard probably wouldn't have a problem with watching torture, hearing it was different. Your imagination would fill in the worst horrors you could conceive. People would try to avoid the screams.

"Any idea where we are?" asked Wolf, gruffly.

"I'd guess underground," replied Alex, softly. "We need to find some stairs."

-o-O-o-

_**A/N: I did warn you it wasn't a pleasant chapter. But at least they're now in the process of escaping, right? Anyway, review and tell me what you thought! (Please don't yell!)**_

_**PS. Sorry, but no update's this coming week either. I'm off to Florence in… five hours. Now I have to go pack and sleep!**_


	16. Chapter 15

_**A/N: So finally here is the next chapter. Sorry it's taking me so long at the moment. Uni takes up a lot of time, apparently. But that does mean I now actually have a life! I know, amazing isn't it? But anyway, onto the chapter!**_

_**DISCLAIMER: Nothing you recognise belongs to me.**_

_**WARNINGS: Language, slash (though if you haven't understood those two warnings will be in every chapter by now, I'm not sure telling you again will make much difference.) Also, a bit of gore, and violence. Enjoy!**_

-o-O-o-

Getting out proved easier than expected. Alex pushed away all thoughts about the morality of his actions and, with Wolf's help, quickly and efficiently immobilised the guards they happened upon – mainly in ones or twos. The only difficulty came when they reached the exit.

Alex, recognising it long before Wolf – who had never, after all, had the opportunity to leave their semtex-rigged room – signalled the soldier to stay put and crept forward, thankful for every lesson he had ever been given on walking quietly.

As expected, the side-door opened to a room that held a group of guards, currently gathered around the table playing cards. Alex silently withdrew and pressed his forehead against the cool painted wall as he thought.

Part of him was screaming at him to take out the threat before they knew he was there. Use the element of surprise to his full advantage. But there was no guarantee that Wolf and he could win against so many, especially, he was forced to admit, when he was in rather bad shape and both of them were tired from simply making it this far. Plus, they were running out of time. They may have only seconds remaining until someone discovered Wilson or one of the guards that they had already taken out. Hell, Wilson would probably be waking up soon on his own. They simply didn't have time for an all-out battle.

He knew, once upon a time, that sneaking passed would have been his first, and preferred, option and he wondered when that changed, but he quickly pushed the thoughts aside, and signalled Wolf to approach as quietly as possible, while he turned to study the door.

Here, at least, he had an advantage. He'd been through this door four times now, that he could remember, and, though it was protected with a keypad, his spying instincts had ensured he memorised the code, piecing together the occasional glimpses he had received to come up with the correct six digit number. He keyed it in, and the lock clicked open.

He felt Wolf shift in anticipation as he settled both hands flat against the smooth metal and pushed.

An alarm blared.

"Shit!" cursed Alex, throwing the door open all the way. Had he missed something when they opened the door? Had the code changed? Or had one of the unconscious men been found? He didn't have time to wonder about it now.

He took off in a sprint, Wolf close on his heels. Behind him, he heard the crash of a door being flung open, and he didn't need to turn around to know that the guards were now hot on their heels. They couldn't get caught.

Unfortunately, with the four guards who usually guarded the outside of the door, inconspicuously, running towards them, this was fast becoming increasingly difficult. Abandoning all pretence of finesse, Alex stabbed the first guard in the stomach with the knife he had taken from Wilson and jerked it sideways.

The guard screamed and there was a sudden gush of blood_gutsgore_ that Alex refused to think about, even as his hands became slick with it. Wolf had already taken out the other guard that had reached them, knocking him unconscious, and the two of them sprinted forward again, evading the other guards heading their way. They couldn't stop for anything.

-o-O-o-

It was nearly dawn when they finally lost them, with the first gentle fingers of light slipping down through the buildings to turn the shadows into a slightly paler grey. They were in a back alley, collapsed in a doorway, though neither could have said the exact location. Alex was leaning against Wolf's legs, too exhausted to move. The stitch in his side felt like someone had stabbed a knife in him, and he was sure his shoulder was about to fall off. It had taken all of his best efforts to keep from screaming at the pain for the last half an hour. He was hoping some rest would allow it to calm down – he really didn't want to have injured it again.

"What should we do know?" he wondered aloud.

"Well, we should go to MI6. Report in and explain things," said Wolf.

Alex winced. He would have a lot of explaining to do. "Tonight?" he whined, plaintively. "Can't we go and sleep somewhere and go over first thing in the morning?"

Wolf frowned. "I guess a few hours couldn't hurt, but where do you suggest? We can't go back to Ben's – they know where that is."

Alex winced at the thought of the spy. Had he ever told Wolf that he was dead? He didn't think so, though he hoped otherwise.

"I hope Yuri had the sense to move, after we were taken," said Alex, his voice quiet.

Wolf grunted his thoughtful agreement.

"We could go to yours?" suggested Alex. "I don't think they ever found it."

Wolf shook his head. "The keys and everything are at Ben's. Can't guarantee it's safe until the locks are changed."

"Well, where then?" huffed Alex.

Wolf frowned in thought.

"We'll go and visit Snake. He'll be able to look you over as well, make sure you're alright."

"I've already told you I'm fine," said Alex, though given how his shoulder was hurting, he was uncertain if it was true.

Wolf muttered something Alex didn't catch, but sounded uncomplimentary, before shifting Alex off him and standing up.

"Come on," he said, reaching out a hand to help the younger up. "We'd better get moving."

-o-O-o-

Snake was dreaming, when a pounding at his door awoke him, and he was reluctant to leave the thoughts of childhood and summer behind for reality. Unfortunately for him, whoever was knocking simply refused to stop and so he was forced to lever himself from his warm blankets and brave the cold wooden floor – why hadn't he chosen carpet again? – to go and answer it.

He pulled it open with a glower, only to have it drop of his face as his expression went blank with shock.

"Wolf? Cub? Where the hell have you been?"

The two supposedly missing men exchanged weary glances.

"We'll explain in a moment," said Wolf curtly. "Can we come in?"

Snake nodded dumbly and led them through to the sitting room.

The sight illuminated by the electric lights was not pretty. Both of them were incredibly pale and Cub was shivering badly enough for Snake to fear hypothermia, though judging from the slightly wild look in his eyes, it might not all be the cold, and-

"Is that blood?" he blurted, staring in horror at the stain splashed liberally over the younger of the two.

"Not mine," murmured Cub, before apparently trying to burrow himself into Wolf's side, now that they were sat on the sofa.

The blood might not be his, but he was being rather careful with his arm, Snake noted, looking him over carefully.

"Your shoulder?" he asked, remembering the old injury. Alex nodded mutely, but didn't offer any more information.

Snake sighed. "You both look half frozen. I'll make you some tea. And then bed. Explanations can wait until morning."

-o-O-o-

_**A/N: So what did you think? I'm going home this weekend, so if you're all really nice and review, I should be able to post the next chapter then. (yeah, I'm bribing for reviews now. So sue me!)**_

_**Did you like it though? I hope so! Review and tell me, please?**_


	17. Chapter 16

_**A/N: I am so, so sorry that this is so late. The last two weeks have been insanely hectic with a ridiculous work load – it amounted to about 25% of the assessed work for my entire YEAR. Needless to say, I've been a little busy. But, I'm updating now, so hopefully you'll all forgive me. This chapter is admittedly a little bit of a filler. I can't have every single chapter being action packed, or I'll end up so turned around I won't be able to tell which way I'm heading. Think of it as a breather.**_

_**DISCLAIMER: I own nothing you recognise.**_

-o-O-o-

He was most definitely _not_ happy with the explanations. Most especially with Alex. _What_ exactly had the boy been thinking when he broke out of MI6 to return to the people who were blackmailing him? Why hadn't he simply asked for their help? He guessed this was why you should never work with children. They simply had no common bloody sense.

"I take it you're going to Liverpool street this morning?" he said, his tone carefully calm.

"Yeah," sighed Alex. "I just hope I don't get arrested on sight."

"If you turn up in that top, you will," commented Snake, nodding towards Alex's t-shirt. Not having anything to change into, he had simply pulled on the one he had been wearing the previous night. Blood stains were not a good fashion statement.

"I know," sighed Alex. "But unless you've got something that wouldn't completely drown me, I'm kind of stuck."

"I might have something you can borrow," said Snake, frowning slightly. "Wait here a moment. And then, I take it you'll want a lift?"

-o-O-o-

They did want a lift, but there was something Alex had to do first. He slipped into the bedroom that he and Wolf had shared the previous night. (After reassuring Snake that of course they didn't mind sharing a bed because it was just for one night after all…)

He changed into the long sleeved top that Snake had lent him, relieved to get out of his own, blood-encrusted one, and bent down by the mattress to withdraw the file he had stashed there last night, under Wolf's disapproving gaze.

His hands were shaking, he noted with trepidation, though he couldn't really say he felt nervous, as such. He didn't feel much of anything at the moment except a great hulking weariness. He just wanted this entire mess sorted out.

He opened it slowly, but only had time to glance down at the first page before the door was pushed open.

It was Wolf. "Hey, Cub, what's taking so-"

The man broke of, looking flatly at the open file in Alex's hands.

"That's classified information, he said, his voice low and almost threatening.

"It's my file," said Alex, calmly. "I have a right to read it."

"If it's your file, you should already know what's in it," countered Wolf.

"Most of it, but it might tell me something about how I'll be received when we go back."

"You would have been received better if you hadn't taken it," grumbled Wolf, but sat down beside Alex, apparently too curious to let his morals stand in the way if Alex was going to read it anyway.

"Here," said Alex, passing over the first page, which seemed to be a basic fact sheet, and the subfolder that held details on his missions.

Wolf bit his lip for a moment, obviously conflicted, before opening the file and beginning to read.

Assured that he wasn't about to be interrupted, Alex turned back to his reading. Now that his missions had been removed, there were only three sections left. One marked "training and recruitment", one marked "relationships and enemies" and the third unmarked, which seemed to be a group of pages that had yet to be correctly filed. He took a moment to look through, scowling at Crawley's report on his capture, especially at the mention of the "disturbing signs of mental vulnerability". He did not need to see a shrink, dammit!

He winced slightly, as he remembered his promise to Wolf. He'd keep it, he guessed, but he didn't actually _need_ to go. He was just fine.

And biting his nails wasn't an indicator of stress or insecurity. He didn't care what they said.

He bypassed the note that declared Yassen's death in scrawled handwriting and quickly looked through the rest, eventually finding a "current information" sheet at the back.

Apparently, what MI6 felt about him was mainly confusion. The type talked of his disappearance and his position as one of their best assets and top agents, which took him by surprise a bit, but notes written hurriedly, but neatly, around the edge indicated his apparent defection, and the possibility of this being due to either mental weakness or some form of manipulation. Maybe they stood a chance of not getting held at gunpoint after all.

Checking to see that Wolf was still reading – he seemed to be on Point Blanc, near the end, judging from the way his free hand was unconsciously massaging the bullet wound he had received there – Alex turned to the section on his relationships and enemies. It surprised him, though he knew it shouldn't have, how many of his enemies had the word 'deceased' or 'terminated' next to them. There were a few Scorpia agents who he had missed in his purge of the organisation, but none who he had personally met and none, according to the file, that were actively seeking revenge. The Chinese Triads were on there as well, though they were indicated to have been negotiated with for Alex's safety. And so was Yassen Gregorovitch.

After a moment of confusion, where Alex checked his memory to make sure that yes, the assassin was well and truly deceased, he remembered the note at the back of the file. Gregorovitch was dead, they just hadn't gotten around to adjusting the file.

He was about to move on when the words beneath the name caught his attention.

"… _has been growing more and more obsessed with Agent Rider throughout his interrogation…"_

"… _has been moved to a more secure cell due to the deterioration of his mental capacity…"_

"… _has escaped. Watch to be placed on Agent Rider when off duty…"_

Alex felt the world turn red around him. They had known. They had bloody _known_ that Gregorovitch would be looking for him and they hadn't even bothered to warn him! He could bloody well kill them now.

Suddenly, a hand was resting on his shoulder and Alex started. He looked up at Wolf and frowned in confusion.

"You were growling," said the soldier, frowning in concern. "What's wrong?"

Alex simply scowled and pushed the file into his hands.

Wolf's eyebrows rose as he read.

"What? It still makes you that mad?"

And just like that, Alex's anger vanished, to be replaced by befuddlement so thick that he couldn't quite stop the extremely dim-witted "huh?" from escaping his lips.

Wolf frowned at him. "I assume you were talking about K-Unit. _'attempts at integration… not part of the team…' _and all?"

Alex's eyebrows rose. "You're in there?"

Immediately, he grabbed the thing back and looked through it. It didn't say much, just that efforts to make him part of the team failed miserably, and for more information to refer to training sections 'SAS' and 'RTI'.

Curious, he flipped over to the training section. It was all as expected, to be honest, though he noted with vicious satisfaction that Ian had not been instructed to train him. It was merely a side effect of their bonding, with a little of Ian's paranoia thrown in.

The teen turned over to the final section, the resistance to interrogation part, and started to read. That was fairly straight forward as well, just an account of the training in SAS, as told by Ben, Eagle, Snake and Wolf. Wolf in particular sounded as if he's swallowed a lemon and Alex stifled a snort, shooting an amused look at the man sitting next to him.

It's only when he reaches the end of the Sargent's report that he realises there is still a lot more paper to go through, and no one left to talk about that incident.

This was about something else. And Alex didn't know what.

-o-O-o-

_**A/N: So what do you think? What do you think is left in the file? Review and tell me!**_


	18. Chapter 17

_**A/N: Hello again! My exams finished yesterday (the less said the better. Just trust me on this) and I have spent all day today writing in bed. And so I have a new chapter for you! Have realised I'm becoming rather hopeless at updating and will attempt to get better. I promise. On the plus side, I've finished several one-shots and nearly finished another chaptered fic (just another couple of chapters.) called Pro Patria Mori. It's an SAS fic, with a twist. I actually started writing it about the same time as Perfectly Normal, though it obviously wasn't priority. Now I just need to build up the confidence to post them. *sigh* Especially Normally Perfect. I don't believe it's going to live up to expectations. :S But oh well, you're not hear to read about what probably sounds like a shameless plug. So… onto the chapter!**_

_**DISCLAIMER: Not mine. Never Mine **___

_**WARNINGS: Language, Slash (who seriously thought it wouldn't be at this point?), references to torture and brainwashing.**_

-o-O-o-

He could practically feel the foreboding in the air, a bitterness that had absolutely nothing to do with the faint lemon scent of whatever cleaner Snake used. He didn't want to know what lay in the dense text in front of him, but knew he had to find out.

He drew in one slow, deep breath and began to read.

-o-O-o-

At first, Wolf didn't realise there was anything wrong. Alex's breathing was slow, deep and regular. Only when he caught the faint shudder of the teens exhale did he realise exactly how forced that seemingly calm breathing was. After that, it was impossible not to notice: his shoulders were ridged; his jaw was clenched and his hands were trembling slightly.

More worrying than even the blank, emotionless mask that Alex had imposed on his face was the way he slowly drained of colour until he was as pale as a corpse. Concerned, Wolf reached out and rested a hand on the blonde's shoulder, trying to reassure him. It was as if a switch had been flipped. Alex changed from shaking but stationary to a blur in the blink of an eye as he bolted from the room. Wolf heard a startled oath from Snake and quickly pursued his lover, only to find him in the cramped bathroom, repeatedly retching over the toilet bowl, though from the acrid smell in the air, there was very little left for him to bring up.

Careless, for the moment, as to what had caused this, Wolf crossed to the younger man.

-o-O-o-

Snake felt as if he were intruding as he stood in the doorway and watched as Wolf massaged Cub's shoulders to relieve some tension, passed him first water, then mouthwash, wiped the teens face with a cloth from by the sink and finally pulled him comfortingly against Wolf's firm chest, one hand continuing to rub the teen's back. When the other rose to card gently through golden hair, Snake coughed and averted his eyes. Whatever the two had been through, it had made them closer than anyone Snake could recall.

Not wanting to intrude, and yet unwilling to leave in case they needed him, he searched around for something to hold his attention. His gaze fell on the file, discarded and forgotten on the floor near his feet. He bent down and shuffled the sheaves of paper back into neat alignment before looking at the one on top.

He had only read a few lines when he had to reach out a hand to steady himself.

"Wolf?" he said, hoarsely, "I think you might want to read this."

-o-O-o-

It was ten minutes later and Alex had been persuaded to return to bed to rest for a while. Wolf and Snake were in the sitting room, engaging in a silent staring contest. It was Wolf who broke the tension.

"So what does this mean?" he asked eventually.

"The drug they gave him… it's nicknamed Pavlov's pill for the way it encourages automatic, subconscious response. It stops all recall of events while under its effects, while allowing the behaviours encouraged by those events to remain."

Wolf stared at him uncomprehendingly and Snake sighed, fisting at his eyes in frustration.

"Resistance to torture has essentially been hardwired into him. They gave him the drug and subjected him to RTI more extreme than anything anyone – SAS, MI6, _anyone _– is legally subjected to. In basic terms? They tortured him, then erased his memory. Interrogation won't work on him. Should he break, it's a high probability that he'd lose the ability to speak, or revert to the mentality of a young child, before he gave away any secrets."

Wolf's face was growing more grey by the second, Snake noted, though his eyes were flaring with righteous anger below the glassy despair.

"It explains a lot actually," sighed Snake.

"Like what?"

"His amnesia," elaborated the medic. "Have you any idea what the chances of losing memory – but not skill – without damaging _something_ else irreparably in the process? And to be able to regain it? It's virtually zero. But after this… treatment, the shock could have knocked everything clean out of his head."

Wolf grunted, his forehead creased with though.

"What are we going to do about it?" he asked, still frowning.

"Nothing," said a cold voice from the door. Alex had woken up.

"What do you mean, 'nothing'?" snarled Wolf. "We can't just let them get away with this!

"And what exactly do you suggest?" asked Alex, raising an eyebrow. "Anything legal that you do will be brushed aside, and anything illegal will have you branded as a traitor."

Wolf scowled. "We could go to MI5…"

"And tell them what?" asked the teen. "Anything you say will be easily refuted and don't forget, legally I'm still _dead_!

Wolf looked at him helplessly. "We can't just let it go; they could do it again!"

Alex sighed and moved forward until he could rest a hand reassuringly on the back of Wolf's neck. "They aren't going to do it again," he said, his voice low and soothing. "They have nothing to gain from it. And besides, I may not like how they went about it, but I understand why they did it. I'm just a teenager. Anyone who is looking for information will see me as the weak link."

"I'm sorry, Cub," interrupted Snake, sceptically, "but this is sounding far too much like excusing them for me to take it as anything other than something they made you believe."

Alex scowled. "Not true," he said, holding up a hand to prevent Snake's interruption before continuing, "but even if that's what you believe, it doesn't change the fact that there is nothing you _can _do, however much you want to."

Both soldiers glared at the floor. They knew he was right. They just couldn't admit it.

-o-O-o-

At the Royal & General, Alex decided to err on the side of caution. With Wolf waiting outside, he entered through the double doors with arms raised in surrender. For a moment, the room stilled, before no less than three security guards, all armed with guns, surrounded him.

"If she's not too busy," he began, faultlessly polite, "I was hoping to speak with Mrs Jones."

When the uproar, that such a bold request caused, had finally died down, it took barely five minutes for the woman to appear. It was good to know that, even when he wasn't trusted enough to sit in the foyer without his own personal entourage of armed guards, he was still considered high priority enough for his request to be put straight through.

But his amusement didn't last long. Mrs Jones' face was colder than he had ever seen it and the angry set of her jaw made him wince.

"You have a _lot_ of explaining to do, Alex," she said, her voice hard.

Alex sighed. This could take a while.

-o-O-o-

_**A/N: So Alex didn't get arrested. And we're all very happy about that. But something tells me he won't get off easy, either! **_

_**By the way, something completely random here. I'm writing a HPxAR fic, and I'm trying to work out which house Alex would be in. It's either Gryffindor or Slytherin, as far as I'm concerned. On the one hand, he's good at dissembling and keeping secrets and using cunning – he's a SPY after all. On the other, he is brave to the point of foolishness and has almost as much of a saving-people thing as Harry Potter… just look at the start of Ark Angel if you don't believe me. Or the entire of Eagle Strike.**_

_**Now… in terms of plot uses for each… Gryffindor would make it easier for him to get in with the characters I know best, and could no doubt write easiest. But I could have a lot of fun with the prejudice in Slytherin, as Alex is a muggleborn. And having Alex dealing with people trying to bully him could be very, very useful.**_

_**So, as you can see, I'm torn. I have to admit am leaning more and more towards Slytherin. Am setting up a poll on my profile, if you're interested in telling me your opinion…**_

_**In the meantime… review and tell me what you thought!**_


	19. Chapter 18

_**A/N: So this is going up mainly because I'm procrastinating on an assignment that I have to have finished for Tuesday. Erm. Yeah, not that I'm advocating procrastination or work avoidance at all. Anyway…**_

_**DISCLAIMER: I own nothing you recognise.**_

_**WARNINGS: Slash. Language. References to torture. References to sex.**_

-o-O-o-

Mrs Jones frowned. "So, you're claiming that Wolf was held hostage to your good behaviour?" she said, slowly, after Alex had explained the situation.

Alex opened his mouth to speak, before thinking better of his sarcastic retort and simply nodding silently.

"Do you have any proof?" she asked.

Alex bit his lip. "Wolf will back me up on this," he said. "He can guarantee everything I said."

If anything, the woman's frown deepened. "Alex, you are one step away from being branded a traitor to your country and a criminal. It is only because of your exemplary past service that we're giving you a chance to explain at all. You need to do better than that."

Alex shuddered. Well, that certainly made things clear. If he didn't find concrete proof that he had been forced in to acting the way he had, he was going to gaol. He was glad Wolf was still waiting in the café outside. He wouldn't have taken this well. No matter what Alex had thought aged fourteen, yelling at the heads of MI6 never got you anywhere.

"They – the people who kidnapped me – would probably have some record of it," he said, slowly. "They had cameras everywhere. I could. I-" he could what? Go back? They'd kill him on sight. There would be no point proving his innocence if he wasn't alive to appreciate it. But if he wasn't alone?

"I've told you everything I know about them," he said, finally. "I could accompany a squad to raid the base, taking down a dangerous enemy as well as procuring proof of my innocence."

Mrs Jones stared at him. "So not only do you have no solid proof, but – without that proof – you want me to trust you with a squad of the country's best men to go and acquire something that will have no direct effect on anyone save yourself?"

Alex winced. It did sound bad when she put it like that. "It would also allow you to take down a group responsible for the death of Ben Daniels, along with several other of your agents. And, I wouldn't want to go and break in to their base to get the proof unless they actually had it."

"It could be a set up," Mrs Jones pointed out.

"But it's not," said Alex. "And even if you think it is, you will go anyway because it is too good an opportunity, and you can prepare for any betrayal on my behalf."

-o-O-o-

Three hours later, Alex was proved right and escorted to the back of a jeep. He'd pretended not to hear as Mrs Jones had instructed the leader to shoot him if he even suspected betrayal, and pretended not to realise that the reason Snake, Bear and Eagle were present was to play on his almost-friendship with them.

Wolf was somewhere in the building, giving his side of the story. Unfortunately, Alex knew exactly how much that would count for, as almost everything Wolf knew had been passed through him first.

So his options: complete this mission, get them to the control room, with the guards defeated, so they would have time to find the proof he needed, all without a weapon, or be branded a traitor and probably shot. It wasn't looking too good for him, he had to admit.

Still, it wasn't hard to choose, and he followed the unit leader into the jeep without complaint.

-o-O-o-

It didn't take long for the soldiers to reach the control room, though control of the base was still a long way off. Alex could hear shouts and the sound of gunfire further off, but right now that wasn't his priority. He just wanted to find proof of his innocence so his own side would stop hunting him. The soldiers could deal with everything else.

Quickly, he glanced over his shoulder to check that the soldier who had been ordered to 'protect' him was guarding the doors, then crossed to a wall lined with cabinets. He pulled open the first one he came to, but it didn't hold what he was looking for. Neither did the second. The third held a rack of weapons, and Alex – after checking that his guard wasn't looking – tucked two knives and a gun into his belt. The last two held stacks of clearly labelled DVDs, organised by date. It was the work of a moment to find the right section, but that still left him a couple of dozen disks to sort through.

Growling with frustration, he grabbed a bag on the side and empties out the contents. There wasn't much, apart from a half-eaten sandwich, but Alex guessed that even henchmen needed lunch. He stuffed the DVDs inside and turned back to the man at the door.

"We're done here," he muttered, trying to push passed, but failing, when a heavy hand landed on his shoulder.

"I have orders to keep you isolated," said the guard, coldly, and Alex sighed before slumping down in a chair.

After a moment, he turned back to inspect the weapons rack. At first, the guard eyed him warily, but when the teen did nothing more than look, he turned back to the more immediate threat, outside the room.

It was certainly an impressive collection, and Alex wondered how many like it were stashed around the complex. He bet there were some real gems. They were weapons dealers, among other things, after all.

His breath hitched slightly when he saw the sleek, unbranded sniper-rifle at the back. It was packed into a familiar black holdall, so Alex assumed it was soon to be delivered. Whoever was expecting it would be disappointed; it was a beautiful weapon. His hands itched to pick it up and study it.

Glancing nervously at the guard, he reached out. It was even more gorgeous close up. Every surface was the same, dull black. It was designed to be light, manoeuvrable and easy to use, he could tell, with each part slipping effortlessly into place under his skilful fingers. For a moment, he simply admired its deadly beauty, before reluctantly taking it apart and slotting it back into the case, which he zipped up.

Even that was perfectly designed. It had a space for bullets – apparently included – and was small enough to fit inside a normal bag without it looking suspicious.

_Or it could fit under your hoody_, whispered a seductive voice in his ear.

He shouldn't. What use did he have for a sniper rifle? If he ever needed one, MI6 would no doubt provide it.

But even as he tried to reason with himself, his hands were stashing it under the thick material and securing it with a couple of deft knots in his t-shirt. It was light enough that it didn't throw off his balance at all.

He dearly wished that he knew how it felt to fire.

-o-O-o-

Wolf was waiting in Mrs Jones' office when Alex returned. He handed over the DVDs in silence and raised a questioning eyebrow at Jones.

"If will obviously take time to confirm your innocence," she explained, calmly. "Wolf will simply be ensuring you do not seek to disappear until we have done so."

"He's my parole officer," said Alex, wryly. He was relieved that he wasn't going to be locked in a cell. Apparently the fact that the mission had obviously not been an ambush, and the fact that he had behaved like a good little boy, had been enough to earn him a little bit of trust.

The sniper rifle, cool against his chest, put the lie to his thoughts. He had had to hand over his gun and two knives at reception, and no doubt wouldn't be getting them back, but no one had found the rifle. A weapon that could get passed Smither's security? Alex wondered what the assassin who ordered it had been planning.

He shifted slightly and waited patiently for dismissal.

-o-O-o-

It was the morning after Agent Rider had delivered the DVDs. Blunt and Mrs Jones had stayed overnight to watch them – unable to trust the task to another when knowing that they could potentially need the highest clearance to view. Mrs Jones was glad of the decision. While most of it had been fairly standard, there were one or two things revealed that should be treated… delicately, to say the least.

"His RTI training appears to be holding. I was pleased to see that it worked just as well against brainwashing. It did not – fully – against Gregorovich, we can assume, but then, he was always more… persuasive," said Blunt.

Mrs Jones nodded her agreement silently. She didn't trust herself not to spit in her superior's face if she opened her mouth. It had not been training. It had been torture. No fancy words would make her forget that, nor what the country owed to Alex.

"His relationship with the soldier, on the other hand," frowned Blunt.

Mrs Jones blushed, thinking of the graphic sex scene they had witnessed. Had circumstances been different, she would have assumed that Alex was involved in amateur pornography!

"Wolf may be a little old for him," she said, with a frown, "but we can hardly judge them when we require Al- Agent Rider to act as an adult so much. It is hardly surprising that he should seek comfort from someone who understands what he has been through."

"I couldn't care less who he goes to for… 'comfort'," sneered Blunt, with a rare display of emotion. "But Rider has become too attached. The soldier can easily be used to manipulate him – as this latest incident has proven."

"You cannot be serious," said Mrs Jones, incredulously. "We have never – _never_ – dictated who our agents have seen, as long as they posed no risk to security."

"And you do not think that the soldier does? Our greatest weapon could be turned against us."

"There will be no 'could' about it if you try to separate him from his lover! We are holding onto him by tenterhooks as it is!"

"It would only be a problem if he knew it was us."

Mrs Jones felt the first faint shivers of dread running down her spine.

"I will not be a part of this," she said, quietly. "The blackmail was bad enough, but I admit it was necessary. The RTI _'training'_ was cruel, but I could understand your logic. But this is not only unnecessary but will turn him against you. I will not let you-"

She was interrupted by the door opening behind her as several guards entered, looking confused.

"Sir, is there a problem? The silent alarm went off…" The guard trailed off, looking expectantly between Blunt and Mrs Jones.

"Yes, there is," said Blunt, emotionlessly.

"Detain her."

-o-O-o-

_**A/N: I would like to point out that if you kill me you don't find out how it ends!**_

_**Phew! Now you've all put down the pitchforks, feel like telling me what you thought?**_

_**Oh, btw, for anyone who hasn't voted, the Gryff vs Slyth poll on my profile is still open, and Slytherin is winning. Who would have guessed that so many would agree on that one? I was completely torn! (see last chapter for rational for each house!)**_


	20. Chapter 19

_**A/N: So today I was contacted by someone from my clubs to get me in on a social as – apparently - if I go, so will everyone else. Considering until I was sixteen, I had the complete opposite effect (if I went, no one else did. After a while you start to feel a little rejected, lol), this was rather surprising. Either this guy is completely wrong, or things like that really do simply rely on chance. Huh.**_

_**On the other hand, I couldn't say an immediate yes to the social as I am ill. I have not left my bed except to get tea (which is about the only thing I can swallow at the moment) since Thursday lunch. Well, I did attend a lecture on Friday, but getting up only made things worse and I had to go back and actually sleep for the rest of the day. (I was not impressed). On the other hand, this bout of illness has led to a lot of free time where I cannot do work, as I don't trust myself to think straight and can't really do anything more active, so I have managed to write lots and lots and lots. Shadow of a Doubt will be twenty five chapters long, possibly twenty six, and I am currently over half-way through chapter 24. You are going to hate me for the ending. Having looked back at the start of Past of Shadows, I have no idea how it ended up there, but it did.**_

_**On the plus side, I might start another series, in a while, that carries on from Shadow of a Doubt, about five years later. Of course, it won't be up any time soon… but yeah, it'll come eventually. And now, after the Uber!A/N, let's move onto what you're really here for, yeah?**_

_**WARNINGS: Slash, Language.**_

_**DISCLAIMER: I own nothing that you recognise.**_

-o-O-o-

Yuri appeared that afternoon. Alex didn't know where he'd been, but he was pretty sure as to why he had delayed. The events of the last time they'd talked still lay between them, and neither would be looking forward to starting to the coming conflict.

"Yuri," smiled Alex. He was glad to see the other teen was alright. He'd only had a criminal's word that he was even alive, after all.

"Why did you do it?" asked the raven-haired boy, quietly.

For a moment, Alex thought about feigning ignorance, but it would only delay the inevitable. And Yuri wouldn't believe him anyway.

"No one should make you look like that," he began quietly, though he could feel the anger he had felt at Platt rising up again. "No-one should make you that scared. I only wanted to make sure that you-"

"Don't you _dare_ try and say that you did it for me!" snapped Yuri, suddenly enraged. "The only person who wanted him dead was _you_, Alex! I just wanted to forget it ever happened! You only did it to try and get rid of some of that messed up guilt you feel for not protecting me. Well, guess what? It's _not_ your responsibility, and _not your problem!_ You can't wrap me up in cotton wool - lock me away to keep me safe. _Life_ is dangerous - you should know that better than anyone - but I won't let you stop me living simply because you have some screwed up notion that you have to protect me!"

"But-"

"NO! _I don't want to hear it_! I don't care how you do it - go back to Farroway or go on a mission to indulge your saving-people thing - but _STOP TRYING TO LIVE MY LIFE FOR ME_! Understand?"

Alex looked away. "Yes," he whispered, so softly he could barely be heard.

"Good," said Yuri, deflating.

Suddenly, he grinned and flung himself at Alex, pulling the spy into a long, tight hug.

"I'm glad you're okay," Yuri mumbled into the blonde's shoulder.

He pulled back, still grinning. "Now we just need Ben to come back and everything will be perfect!"

Alex paled.

"Ben?" he croaked. Oh god. _Theydidn'tknowtheydidn'tknowtheydidn'tknow._

"Yeah. He should be back soon right?"

He had to tell them. God. Shit, he didn't think he could do this.

He felt himself start to hyperventilate and forced himself to calm down. He could do this, because he didn't have a choice.

"Alex?" asked Yuri, apparently concerned by his silence. "What's wrong?"

"Let's go through to the living room, yeah?" he said, quietly. "Bear and Eagle came with you, right?"

"Yeah, okay," said Yuri, still looking concerned.

"Alex? What's wrong?" asked Wolf, as soon as the pair came through the door.

He sounded concerned, and Alex briefly wondered exactly how bad he looked at the moment, but brushed the thought aside as Yuri took a seat.

They were all looking at him now. He hadn't sat, unlike the others, so it was obvious he had something to say – something important.

"I… I need to tell you something," he began, quietly. "It's about Ben – Fox."

Suddenly Wolf understood, grief and pain becoming obvious on his now pale face.

"They don't know?" he asked, quietly.

Alex shook his head.

"What about him?" asked Eagle, trepidation filling his voice.

For a moment, Alex simply breathed. _In. Out. In. _There was no easy way to tell them. _Out. In. _It would be better just to get it over with. _In. Out._

"Alex?"

_In._

"He- He was caught, on a mission. They… They interrogated him. And killed him."

Terrible silence filled the room, thick enough to swallow any sound.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled. "I'm so sorry."

-o-O-o-

The silence persisted. A week later, Snake was still rising early and returning late. The only sign that the man was coming home at all was the movement of bottles in the shower and the occasional dish in the sink or on the draining board. Eagle and Bear had vanished into their flats and not re-emerged, while Yuri had been roaming the streets where he used to live.

He was supposed to be working on his education, with Alex and Mr Grey in the afternoons, but Alex didn't have the heart to bring it up, not when Yuri looked at him with those devastated eyes.

Ben was, after all, the first adult who had taken responsibility for him, the closest he had ever had to a parent, although Yuri had never let Ben know he thought like that, or how much it had meant to him. Perhaps worse, they had never had a chance to develop that relationship. Yuri would always be haunted by what-could-have-been.

Alex felt as if everyone he cared about was slipping slowly out of his life, and he clung to Wolf with a desperation he hadn't known he possessed.

"Yuri isn't back yet," murmured Wolf, glancing out of the window. It was already dark, noticed Alex. No one had said anything, but Yuri had so far been back at dusk every day.

The blond frowned.

"If he hasn't shown up in an hour, I'll go look for him," muttered Alex, sitting down on the sofa next to Wolf.

"I'm sure he'll be fine," soothed the soldier. "He lived around there for years, remember?"

"Yeah, of course," said Alex, throwing another worried glance out of the window.

"Come here," said Wolf, pulling Alex across his lap and against his chest.

Alex blinked, and looked up at Wolf, just in time for the soldier to land a searing kiss on his unsuspecting lips.

Alex grinned; Yuri, for the moment, forgotten.

He twisted around until he was straddling Wolf.

"Mmm," murmured the teen, pressing his lips once more to Wolf's. "We should do this more often."

Wolf let out a throaty chuckle. "Not easy when you're sharing a two bedroom flat between four people."

To Snake, it had seemed obvious for Wolf to share his room, and for the two 'boys' to share the spare. Needless to say, this had put a serious damper on any amorous activity between the two.

"Well we better make it worth it, then," grinned Alex, his hands falling to their belts.

-o-O-o-

An hour and a half later, Yuri still had not returned. Alex groaned and manoeuvred himself from the floor, reaching for his jeans.

"I better go look for him," he sighed, pressing a final kiss to the junction between Wolf's neck and shoulder.

Wolf murmured and pulled his own clothes towards him.

By the time he was dressed, Alex had already left.

He sighed and began to straighten the cushions where he and Alex had knocked them off.

He'd only just finished when someone knocked at the door. He frowned and went to answer it.

-o-O-o-

_**A/N: So what did you think? Review and tell me! And if anyone can guess what is so terrible about the ending at this point, I'll give you virtual cookies!**_


	21. Chapter 20

_**A/N: So I'm sorry about the slight mess up on numbering last time. That should now be fixed. :) Hope you like this chapter.**_

_**DISCLAIMER: I own nothing you recognise.**_

_**WARNINGS: Violence, Language, Torture – effects graphically described, but done off screen. Implied Slash. (although, if you had a problem with that, I doubt you'd still be reading…)**_

_**-o-O-o-**_

Alex had found Yuri with his back to a wall, facing down three youths perhaps three or four years older than him. The fight had been short and brutal, especially on Yuri's part as he took out all his anger at the injustice of the world on the unlucky three.

"Are you feeling better?" asked Alex, as he studied the bruise flowering on Yuri's cheek.

"Much," said Yuri with a feral grin.

"Great. Now can we please get back? It's cold out here!"

"Should have grabbed a jacket," teased Yuri, setting off.

Alex rolled his eyes and followed.

He knew something was wrong as soon as they reached the landing outside Snake's flat. He paused, grabbing Yuri's sleeve to pull him to a stop beside him.

"What's up?" Yuri asked, but Alex ignored him, his eyes busy taking in every detail to try and determine what had set off alarm bells in his head.

It only took a moment; the door to the flat wasn't latched. There was only tiny gap, but it was still there.

He motioned for Yuri to stay still and crept forward, pressing his ear to the crack.

When he couldn't hear anything, he pushed it open. The room was empty, but something had happened; the sofa was overturned and TV screen had been smashed.

"James?" he called, worriedly. "James, are you there?"

His foot kicked something and he looked down. Wolf's phone was lying there, the screen cracked and black.

He picked it up as Yuri came up behind him.

"The lock wasn't forced," said Yuri calmly, though Alex could tell it was forced, "but the chain was broken. It's what kept the door open."

For a moment, the world around Alex wavered, and everything seemed incredibly far away. He didn't know if he could do this again.

And then Yuri was resting a hand on his shoulder and it all came rushing back, and he realised he could do it, because he had to.

"I'll find him," he promised.

He had to.

-o-O-o-

The men didn't look twice at the haggard, middle aged blond woman huddled in the doorway. Her blond hair was matted and dirty and the windbreaker she was wearing was most definitely not doing its job.

It might not be glamorous, but Mrs Jones knew that all the fancy equipment in the world could never make you as invisible as begging.

She'd had to fight her way out of the bank, but she hadn't become a spymaster by being bad in the field. They were combing the city for her, but she couldn't leave, as she would normally. She had to find Alex first, and tell him what Blunt had planned. Otherwise, she would have cashed in her job for nothing.

He was staying with Snake, along with Wolf and… Yuri, was it? She'd always taken a personal interest in their youngest spy, and now she was glad for it. Had she had to hack into MI6 to discover his current address, she would have been discovered instantly.

But they would no doubt know where she was heading. They would be waiting for her. They would not let her reach Alex if they could help it.

She would wait until dark. Even the best agent could miss something if it was hidden in enough shadows.

-o-O-o-

Snake came home to find Yuri trying to turn the sofa the right way up. He was seriously hampered by the fact that he was kneeling on it, but this didn't seem to register.

"Yuri?" he said quietly, pulled out of his active isolation by confusion, and the weight of despair in the slump of the teen's shoulders.

The boy ignored him. Cautiously, he reached out, but Yuri jerked away.

"Don't touch me," spat the teen.

His arm fell to his side. "What happened?"

"He's gone. They've gone."

"What do you mean, gone?" asked Snake, trepidation colouring his voice.

"They've _gone_. Why do they always _leave?_ First Ben, now Wolf and Alex…" Yuri choked back a sob.

"They're… dead?" asked Snake, his voice hushed with horror.

"No," Yuri reassured him, dashing a tear from his eye. "Wolf was taken, and Alex has gone to get him back. He can't _do_ this. Not alone. He won't come back. _Why did he have to leave me?"_

Snake reached out again, but Yuri's snarl pushed him back.

"_Don't_," he spat. "Just don't. I'm better off alone."

"So I'm too late?" came a new voice from the doorway. "Wolf has already been abducted, and Alex has already gone after him?"

"Who are you?" asked Snake, stepping protectively in front of the shattered Yuri.

The woman stepped forward. Her hair was long and curly, falling just below her shoulders in controlled strawberry-blond ringlets. She looked the perfect image of a young, successful business woman. "It doesn't matter. All you need to know is that I'm a friend. And I need to find Alex. Soon."

"He's gone," said Snake.

"Well, that doesn't help," muttered the woman, reaching into her pocket. There was a brief crackle of plastic, then she yanked her hand out. "Fuck it," she muttered. "Anyone got a cigarette?"

Snake shook his head. Yuri, on the other hand, glanced guiltily at Snake and pulled out a brand new box.

"Since when do you smoke?" frowned the medic.

Yuri shrugged awkwardly. "I just… wanted to buy a pack," he muttered.

"Marlboro Gold," muttered the woman, as she opened the pack. "My favourite brand. Perfect."

"Glad to help," said Yuri, slightly mystified.

"I have to go," said the woman, lighting up with a zippo lighter. "Thanks for the cigarettes."

-o-O-o-

Alex frowned at the man tied to the chair. He had been methodical in his approach, listing all his enemies, then Wolf's and finally those with a grudge against the SAS or against someone close to Wolf.

The first list had been remarkably short, considering. It appeared that Alex was rather bad at leaving his enemies alive. The most likely candidate was the group of people he had just help to take down, but they had not had enough time to organise it. Wolf's list of enemies had been almost identical to the SAS list, and so Alex had started there.

The pathetic man tearing up and whimpering in front of him was the third board member of a group that Wolf had led a strike against approximately six months ago. There were burn marks focused around his nipples and arm pits, he was missing three toes and all his fingernails, and Alex was just beginning to consider cutting away the man's eyelids, but he still hadn't said anything useful. He'd given Alex a lot of information on his own group, and others, however and Alex had already picked out several likely targets for his next unwilling mole. He was beginning to think that the man, like the other two before him, didn't know anything. There was only one board member left and Alex had been avoiding him because the man had one hell of a dark reputation, but it seemed as if he was left with no choice.

Even worse, the criminal underworld was starting to get jittery. He'd been at this for a fortnight, and the trail of mutilated corpses he had left behind was enough to set even the most hardened assassin on edge. It was obvious someone was looking for something, but no-one knew who. They had started calling him the Shadow, and soon he had a feeling that the name alone would be enough to scare some information out of his targets.

He looked at the man, suddenly sickened by the tears and snot running down his chin. He wanted this over with. He wanted Wolf back. These men were pathetic. They didn't have an ounce of loyalty to anyone or anything except themselves. They would sell out their own mothers to avoid a bit of pain. He'd only been working this man over for half a day and he was already broken.

"I am going to ask you one last time," said Alex, his voice stoic as he calmly examined his knife for nicks in the blade. He had used bolt cutters on the man's toes, but it had still seen a lot of use over the last two weeks. "And if you do not answer, I will assume you cannot and are, therefore, no more use to me and so I will kill you."

He paused, and let the message sink in.

"What can you tell me of your dealings with the SAS in the last six months?"

The man started blubbering again, protesting his ignorance and pleading for mercy. Alex sighed.

In one smooth movement, he had crossed the room and slit the man's throat.

He would move to Chelyabinsk tonight.

_**-o-O-o-**_

_**A/N: So? What did you think? Alex seems to be going a little darker here… erm… ok, a little might be a slight understatement, but still.**_

_**Review and tell me what you thought? Have recently come across a song that pretty much perfectly sums up Wolf/Alex in this story. Not going to tell you what it is, just yet, as it could spoil the ending, but if anyone guesses what it is, I'll dedicate a chapter to you. If no-one guesses this time, I'll give you the artist name next chapter. :)**_

_**But yeah, review!**_


	22. Chapter 21

_**A/N: So, I'm on my way to London. And guess what? The train has wifi! The three-and-something hour journey just got a whole lot better, so to celebrate, you're all getting another chapter! Of course, it has absolutely nothing to do with my absolutely miserable attempt to dump my bf last night. The fact that he's still my bf an not my ex should tell you how well that went. Guess I'll have to try again when I get back. *sigh***_

_**In other news, have about 500 words (max) left to write of the story… might even finish that on here, while I'm at it. :) You have twenty five chapters plus an epilogue. So that would be twenty seven shown on here because of the prologue etc… That enough for you guys? You're really not going to like me for the end… but anyway! Onto the chapter!**_

_**DISCLAIMER: I own nothing you recognise.**_

_**WARNINGS: Actually, specifically in this chapter, I don't think there are any. Possibly language. But yeah. I doubt you worry about that if you've read up to this point…**_

-o-O-o-

Mrs Jones shoved aside the nausea she felt as she arrived at the latest crime scene, in a small backwater village somewhere in Czech Republic. The elusive 'Shadow' had struck again, and Mrs Jones was worried more by the lack of care shown in hiding his activities than the ruthlessness shown in the interrogation. He was overly confident that it would never be linked back to him. He no longer feared the consequences from the law, or from MI6 and she couldn't say she blamed him. To bring him to court would be to admit the despicable acts they had committed against him. The only option left to them was illegal detainment or execution, and they could afford to do neither.

But if Alex continued on like this, he would leave them no choice. They could not allow one of their agents to become a monster without a tight leash.

She had cashed in half of the favours she was owed trying to follow Alex, before she realised that it was virtually impossible. Avoiding notice was as instinctual to him as breathing, thanks to Ian, and nothing her contacts tried could find him. Instead, she had researched his victims, and she thought she could predict his next move. If the man was smart, Alex's next target would have gone into hiding already. That should buy her sometime to find Alex.

But location was still a problem. All she knew was that he was somewhere in Russia, most likely not Moscow due to the high control of the mafia there, but anywhere else was fair game. And Russia was _big_.

She would start in St Petersburg and go from there.

-o-O-o-

It was pure chance that she saw him in the station in St Petersburg. He had put something in his hair to turn it a dirty brown, but she could still recognise him – she had spent hours studying pictures of him in all his disguises, of watching videos of his missions, trying to persuade herself that it wasn't harming him. She never had been quite satisfied, but now it meant she could spot Alex at a glance, no matter what he looked like.

But Alex was the best; there was no way she would be able to corner him here, and he would know immediately that he was being followed.

Hopefully he would confront her, but in his current state of mind, she was hesitant to even attempt to predict his behaviour.

He got on a train and she boarded the same one, in a different carriage. She didn't want him to realise he was being followed and change trains. Once it was moving, she should be able to persuade him to not to vanish.

As train pulled away about ten minutes later, she began to move. She didn't want him to do some creative train-hopping without her realising.

If he had stayed still, he was one carriage over. If he was smart, and he was, he would not have, which gave her half the train to search. If he was very smart, his disguise would already have been changed.

When it came to Alex Rider, one should expect the best, and when she found him half-way out of the skylight between carriages, she knew she had almost underestimated him. Had she not been rushing, he would have been gone already.

She gave a firm tug on his jeans, just once then let go and stepped back. His curiosity had always gotten him into trouble, right from his recruitment, and he could not resist seeing who was summoning him in such a fashion.

She was gratified to see his hair was blond again – platinum blond instead of his own golden locks, however - his eyes a clear crystal blue and his skin pale. He would fit right in.

"I'm sorry," he said, in a thick Russian accent. "Do I know you?"

"My name's Lily," she said with a sweet smile. "My parents were avid gardeners."

His eyebrow shot up, taking in the now chocolate brown, close cropped hair and green eyes.

"And what brings you here?" he asked.

"Oh, this and that. A friend of mine came out here to find an estranged lover, and I came to help. He's likely to do something stupid, if I'm not there."

"Would you care to continue this somewhere… private?" he asked, with a grin.

Mrs Jones shuddered. To anyone listening, he would sound like the typical lecherous young man, but she was sort of obliged to accept.

"I think that could be quite… rewarding."

-o-O-o-

They had left the train after a few stops and were currently sitting on a park bench, far enough away from cover that no one could sneak up on them and they could not be bugged.

"You are good," she said, admiringly, scrutinising his disguise more closely. "It can't be contacts, your eyes are too clear. You've been messing about with melatonin levels, haven't you?"

An eye roll and a fingertip gently tugging his eyelid up revealed a tiny pinprick in the white of his eye.

"It's experimental, and will only last twenty four hours, but I can change colours pretty easily now," he said. "Why are you here?"

"Blunt tried to arrest me. Or well, 'detain' me, there would have been no charges made."

"Why?"

"I… disagreed with him. He…"

"He abducted Wolf," said Alex, heavily, after she paused. "It's the only reason you would come all this way."

"Torture and assassination won't work against MI6, Alex. Not if you want to stay a free man."

"I know. I have a plan."

"Alex… these last weeks… your methods…"

"Were unorthodox at best," he admitted calmly. "I can't say it won't happen again, but I would never do it unless it was completely necessary."

Somehow, Mrs Jones didn't believe him.

-o-O-o-

It took him a week to get home, delayed by having to slip through countries he did not have the necessary visa for. Mrs Jones had elected to remain in France when Alex crossed the channel, realising that her presence would only slow him down.

It didn't matter. He had what he needed from her. He was long passed the stage of wanting company for its own sake, except from a select few individuals. One of who was languishing in cells in MI6.

His list grew shorter every day. Ian. Jack. Ben. All dead. Friends from school believed him to be dead, and besides many had abandoned him long before that.

That left him with three: Tom, whom he clung to as a final reminder of his life before MI6, Yuri and Wolf. A friend, a brother and a lover. He supposed it was enough.

Bear, Eagle and Snake, he supposed, he would not turn away, but he did not crave their company. He did not feel the urge to protect them, or to lean on them or open up to them. He invested nothing of himself in them, and expected nothing in return.

But he had to get Wolf back. That was a necessity.

His plan was brilliant in its simplicity. He had no hope of using force against Blunt to secure Wolf's release, nor did he have enough leverage to ensure it through… other means.

No. Instead he would use Blunt's own allies against him.

-o-O-o-

He returned to Snake's flat for the night. Snake was out, as he had come to expect from before he left, and Yuri refused to look at him. Alex didn't blame him. He had promised to return with Wolf, and yet the soldier wasn't here. Just a few more days, maybe a week, two at most, and James would be back with them. Yuri would talk to him again then, he was sure of it.

The next morning, he retrieved his file from its hiding place. For a moment he crouched, motionless, staring at the sleek black case also resting there.

No. He did not need that. Not yet.

He spent the next day trekking between libraries and copy shops, never copying more than one or two pages at once, but by the time evening fell, he had two complete files, and had bought a simple box file to store the new one in.

Tomorrow, he would visit Thames House.

-o-O-o-

_**A/N: So Yuri is still freaking out, and Alex thinks he's mad at him. Luckily for him, Yuri is a fairly uncomplicated kid, so that shouldn't last long. :) Anyways, hope you liked the chapter – review and tell either way!**_

_**Oh, and for those of you interested in the whole guess-the-song thing, it's by Rise Against. Even if you're not guessing the song, check them out – they're awesome!**_


	23. Chapter 22

_**A/N: It's very irritating that the one day I get off from uni is the one day someone **_**always** _**and knocks on my door. What did I do to not deserve a lie in? *pout* On the other hand, it's great news for you guys, because it means I'm updating instead of dreaming – although given the current state of my dreams, that might just be good news for me to! Anyway, onto the chapter! PS, have now finished writing the story!**_

_**DISCLAIMER: I own nothing you recognise.**_

_**WARNINGS: For this chapter? None. I was amazed! To be fair there's nothing too exciting in here, but it's needed to move the plot forward, so yeah… enjoy!**_

-o-O-o-

The copy was obviously a copy. He had photocopied everything, including the folders, and so it was divided into sections with grey pages, sometimes with a white square with neat black type, instead of kept confined with actual folders. He'd only shoved it in a box file to keep it in order and to stop him losing it – that would be _bad_ – and the file itself had been placed in a scruffy black messenger bag from his days at Brooklands.

He was about to leave, when he bit his lip and glanced back. He grabbed a pen and paper and, in writing completely different from his own, printed a message and quickly slipped it into the bag.

-o-O-o-

It took him about two hours to get to his destination. Paranoia had kicked in again, and he had ended up changing directions to head away from Thames House at almost any prompt. But it was essential that no one followed him. If this bag didn't reach the right people, he would have to start all over again.

He knew that Thames House wasn't the true headquarters of MI5, just like the building at Vauxhall Cross was only a decoy for MI6, but there would still be some agents there. This should work.

He slipped passed the guards easily enough, privately wondering what the poor sods had done to get landed with that, and snuck through the building until he found what seemed to be some kind of reception, deep in MI5 territory.

He knew he would have been caught on camera, but he looked different enough from himself that he should be fine unless they had people continually monitoring the feed. In which case, he would most likely be leaving here in a hurry.

A Suit appeared at the end of the corridor.

"Hey, you!"

Okay, he would definitely be leaving here in a hurry.

He took off, his feet pounding on the floor; he was hardly worried about keeping silent when he had already been spotted.

Another suit joined the chase, and then another. He was attracting them like wasps to a honey pot.

Terriers, the lot of them. They'd chase anything that ran away.

He gritted his teeth and forced his legs to move faster, slowly increasing the distance between him and pursuit. There was a turning coming up. Did he go left or right?

Left. He needed to go left to get to the stairs.

He skidded around the corner and raced down the corridor, throwing open the door to the stairwell and clattering down them.

He knocked into a figure and sent them flying, but didn't stop, only yelling a brief apology over his shoulder as he hurried passed.

He could hear the men clattering down the stairs above him and sped up, taking the steps two or three at a time.

Only one more floor to go. He could see the exit.

And he could see the five men blocking it.

Cursing under his breath, he ran over his options. He couldn't stop, or they'd catch him. He couldn't kill them, or he'd spend the rest of his free life on the run. He just had to get passed them and trust that he could outrun them.

Well, that was easy enough.

He sped up. The suits in front of him stared at him in shock for a moment, before he crashed right through them. He tripped over a foot, flying through the air to land with a painful thump a few metres beyond them, but ignored the aches and stumbled on. Behind him was the noise of chaos and hasty people losing speed. He grinned. From here, he could see the exit, barely fifteen metres away.

Ten.

From the sounds of it, the suits in the stairwell had managed to sort themselves out, and several more were converging on him from either side.

They were getting closer, but he was already through the door. His pursuit may be right at his heels, but freedom lay ahead. Not bothering to stop and assess his plan, he sprinted around the corner and threw himself over the low wall.

The last thing he saw was a crowd of shocked faces staring down at him, before the waters of the Thames swallowed him.

-o-O-o-

Dusk was falling when he finally squelched back into the apartment. He was cold and wet and the Thames wasn't exactly known for having clean water. He looked as if he'd been in a fight with a mud-monster and he was _not_ happy about it.

Needless to say, although they probably picked up on his desperate need for a nice, hot shower, Snake and Yuri did not pick up on his desire to be left the F alone.

"What happened to you?" blurted Yuri, as Alex dripped his way across the living room.

Alex sent him a low level glare and answered shortly, "I took a dip in the Thames."

Yuri looked at him blankly, for a second, but it was Snake who let out the short, befuddled, "Why?"

Alex upped his glare from "You are a minor irritation" to "Stop now or you'll _really_ piss me off" and turned it on the soldier, who did not have the grace to flinch.

"Because I thought it would be fun," he said, sarcastically.

"Really?" That was Yuri. Idiot.

Christ, his expressiveness must really have been messed up in the river.

"No, you ass! It was simply the best way to lose the suits who were chasing me."

"Do we have to worry about them coming here?"

Alex wearily shook his head. "Can I explain _after_ a shower?" he asked, plaintively.

It turned out he could.

Ten minutes later, it turned out he could, on the condition that it was a short shower. He yelled at whoever was banging on the door to go away and he'd be out as soon as he could feel his fingers.

-o-O-o-

The head of MI5 was not having a good day. First, someone had pointed out that the mysterious 'Shadow' killings had originated in his country and so half of the European community was breathing down his neck to find the culprit. What seemed like the entire of MI6 had mobilised and were combing the country and now the northern parts of France and _he had no idea why_. The coffee machine was broken – not quite up to par with the rest, but he freely admitted it had probably had the biggest impact on his mood. His headquarters had been _invaded_ by a youth whom no one recognised and who still hadn't been caught.

And now this.

Admittedly, to look at it the bag would not seem all that terrible. It was a fairly typical teenager's schoolbag, if he was honest: black, tattered, graffitied with increasingly crude slogans and song lyrics, a strap that had obviously seen heavy use and seams that looked as if they were about to give way.

Given the choice, he would have thrown it into the bin and forgotten about it – after sanitising his hands liberally. But no, the choice had been taken away from him by the contents.

What had Blunt been _thinking?_

Not only had he found out that the man apparently blackmailed, exploited and _tortured_ a child, but the note had been all too clear that it was now his responsibility to sort out.

He shuddered, as he recalled the words. _'This might have gone to the press. It still could.'_

The possibility of this reaching the public's ears was unthinkable. The shockwaves in Britain alone would be astronomical, never mind the international reaction.

It was time to take a closer look at MI6.

-o-O-o-

_**So, what did you think? Review and tell me! And I'll try and have the next chapter up before Monday. :)**_


	24. Chapter 23

_**A/N: So I am currently trying to decide whether it's worth the five minute walk to my car to go and get strepsils. For those of you who don't know (not sure if they're only sold in the UK or not) that's a sore throat sweet. Advantages: I could get ice cream, chocolate and a whole load of other stuff to make me feel better, as well as milk (which I actually need), and once I have taken the strepsils I will no doubt be able to swallow and so eat dinner etc and continue on like a normal person. On the other hand, it's cold, dark and most likely wet, so the walk is liable to actually make me worse… dilemma.**_

_**While I procrastinate, I decided to post the next chapter. So here you are!**_

_**WARNINGS: Mild language.**_

_**DISCLAIMER: I own nothing you recognise.**_

-o-O-o-

The call came at eight thirty the next morning.

It rang through the small flat, waking Alex instantly and making Snake leave the bathroom cursing and half-shaven. Yuri, of course, slept on.

Alex, giving sleep up as a bad job, exited his room just to hear Snake grumble something indecipherable in his direction and thrust the phone into his chest.

"It's for you," muttered the soldier, before stalking back into the bathroom. Alex carefully wiped shaving phone from the plastic, before holding it to his ear.

"Hello?" he asked, curiously.

"Hello, Mr Rider. This is the Royal and General Bank. There have been some problems with your account and we were hoping you could come in."

Alex groaned, silently, but answered. If he was lucky, it wasn't Blunt who had ordered this.

If he wasn't, he was about to be arrested for spilling national secrets.

"What time do you want me?" he asked.

"Erm… would now be too soon?"

-o-O-o-

An hour and a half later – because he refused to rush for MI bloody 6 – he walked through the doors of the Royal and General. The receptionist – looking excessively harried, which Alex could not determine whether was a good sign or not – waved him through to the elevator, apparently both recognising him and having been briefed on his expected arrival. The doors closed behind him, and it started moving.

Alex decided to ignore the fact that he had yet to press a button.

The lift doors opened onto… well, chaos. Piles of paper were spread over the entire floor, occasionally being moved and reorganised by the suits –not MI6, that he could tell - milling everywhere. There was obviously some sort of system, but its purpose and design escaped Alex. In the actual offices, he spied MI6 agents being interviewed by the newcomers and yet more paper coming from the clip boards held in busy hands.

For a moment, he simply stared before carefully picking his way over the paper trail – quite literally in this case – and moving along the corridor.

He doubted he was here to see Blunt – undeniably a good thing as Alex wasn't convinced he would have been able to restrain himself around the man – but that left him the question of where he was supposed to be going.

He wasn't left to wonder long. One of the agents peeled away from a pile of paper and came towards him.

"Alex Rider?" He asked, barely waiting for Alex's confirmation before ploughing on. "Good. The head wants to see you."

He was led to Blunt's office, and for a moment Alex felt his hatred rise up to boil in his veins and sing seductively in his ear. It would be so, so easy to lose control, so gratifying to unleash all his anger on the man who had ruined his life, to fight until either he killed his opponent, or until he died.

But the man sitting there waiting for him was not Alan Blunt. In the place of the frankly grey man he had been expecting was a forty-something man with silvery-white hair and a large bald patch on top of his head.

"Ah, you must be the young Mr Rider," said the man, smiling genially. "I am Mr Ruskin, the current Director-General of MI5. I- well, I can't say I have heard much about you, but I have read an awful lot in the last day or so, and it is an honour to meet you."

Alex looked at him warily, wondering exactly what the man had read, and if there was anything that wasn't in the file.

"Pleased to meet you, sir," he said, after only a moment's hesitation, politely taking the outstretched hand after only a brief glance to check for possible dangers.

"Brilliant. Now that that's out of the way, you and I need to have a little chat."

"About what?" asked Alex, nervously.

"First of all, I want to apologise for Blunt's actions, and to thank you for all you've done for this country. It would be a very different place without you."

"Oh," said Alex, thrown for a loop. "Erm, thanks, I guess."

"Then, we need to discuss the future management of MI6."

"Wait, what?" exclaimed Alex, his eyes widening. Why would they want to discuss this with _him_?

"Well, obviously, Blunt has been arrested. Tulip Jones is missing, and we've found a standing order to detain her, with no explanation provided. And you, Rider, are de facto the most senior agent, having the missions of both highest risk and highest secrecy."

Alex felt his face go blank with shock, and he slowly sank down into a chair.

"Bloody hell," he muttered.

Ruskin raised an eyebrow in wry amusement. "I take it you did not know this?"

Mutely Alex shook his head.

"I didn't even know I was an official agent," he elaborated after a moment's silence.

Ruskin shifted uncomfortably. "Perhaps you are not the best person to be having this conversation with then," he muttered.

"Probably not," admitted Alex, candidly. "But I do know where Mrs Jones is."

"Really?" asked the head, hopefully.

"She's in Paris. Blunt tried to detain her when she disagreed about the kidnapping of a friend of mine as 'an unacceptable risk'."

The man groaned heavily.

"Who did Blunt try to kidnap, why, and was he successful."

"An SAS soldier, code-name: Wolf. He was head of the unit I trained with and we reconnected a few months ago. Blunt didn't like the fact that he could be used against me and so decided to get rid of the 'weakness'. I don't know where he is now, but yeah, he was successfully kidnapped."

The man sighed and picked up a mobile from the desk.

"Watson, could you check the cells for a man who answers to the name Wolf and bring him up here if you find him? Thanks."

"Thank you, sir," said Alex, sincerely grateful.

"Would you be able to contact Jones?"

"I know what hotel she is staying in, and what name she's staying under, I could probably get them to leave her a message."

"Alright. You do that then. We'll reinstate her as head of MI6, and leave the rest of the clean-up to her. Although, I do think audits every now and then would be a good idea. I cannot _believe_ the audacity Blunt showed in flouting our laws, and endangering those he was supposed to protect!"

There was a knock on the door.

"Sir? I think we've found the soldier."

"Alex?"

Slowly, hardly daring to believe it, Alex turned around.

"James!" he gasped, flinging himself across the room to pull the soldier into a tight hug. It was so, so rare that something good ever happened to him, it was hard to believe.

"I didn't think I'd see you again," he murmured, resting his cheek against Wolf's chest.

"I'm glad you're ok," said Wolf. "I was scared you'd do something stupidly dangerous to try and find me."

Alex let out a weak chuckle, but was spared from answering by someone embarrassedly clearing their throat.

Blushing, Alex pulled back.

"Oh. Sorry, sir. Wolf, can I introduce you to Mr Ruskin – the Director-General of MI5?"

-o-O-o-

_**A/N: Decision has been made, I'm off to get ice cream. I mean strepsils, of course! (It hurts to yawn – I figured physical irritation from a sore throat out weighs mental irritation at having to brave bad weather!)**_

_**And aren't you happy? Wolf came back! Yay!**_


	25. Chapter 24

_**A/N: So it turns out that drinking something bright orange handed to you in a pint glass by your friend at about 9 o'clock on a Saturday night is a bad idea. At least, it is if you haven't seen them make it. For me, the colourful drink turned out to be about 60% vodka, of various flavours, mixed with something that was already alcoholic. Add to this three pints of cider and a few VKs and SmirnOff Ices and you end up being completely and utterly trolleyed. Needless to say, I didn't get up until half one. Despite having a whole load of work due tomorrow.**_

_**And so I'm doing as I always do when I panic about deadlines: procrastinating! Well, it's working out well for you guys, you're getting another chapter. :) Luckily, I don't get hangovers. You should see my friend this morning. She's calling it stupidity, which it might well be, but I still think Karma has a much better ring to it! :)**_

_**WARNINGS: Language, Slash, enough fluff to give you tooth ache. Be warned – I will not be held responsible for nausea or any other symptoms that come from over-exposure.**_

_**DISCLAIMER: I own nothing you recognise.**_

_**-o-O-o-**_

Weeks passed, in what Alex assumed was normality, though perhaps his definition of that particular human phenomenon was a little skewed. In any case, Mrs Jones returned to take over the running of MI6, Wolf and Alex finally had a place of their own and there was actually talk of both him and Yuri returning to regular school.

Blunt's trial was that afternoon.

Alex had been twitchy all day, barely able to sit still, except for the last hour, when he had been overcompensating and had been the very image of calm.

Wolf comparing him to a fly, constantly buzzing around, might have had something to do with it.

The soldier ruffled his lover's hair and settled himself on the sofa beside him.

"Do you want me to come with you?" he asked, quietly.

"I'll be ok," said Alex. He'd been called upon to testify, although the prosecution had assured him that the majority of evidence was physical or written evidence, so it was really just a formality.

"Ok," said Wolf. "But I'll give you a lift down there. I don't want you cornered by the press outside."

Despite everyone's best efforts, the fact that the former head of MI6 had been arrested, had leaked to the press, though the charges so far had remained secret, much to Alex's relief. And while the press would not be allowed inside the courtroom, there was no doubt that they would be outside, ready to hound any caught entering or leaving.

He glanced at the clock and sighed. "I guess we better get going."

-o-O-o-

"How did you first meet Alan Blunt?"

Alex paused briefly to collect his thoughts, but then spoke in a calm, clear voice.

"He came to my Uncle's funeral. We met there."

"And did you notice anything strange about him at the time?" continued the prosecutor.

"No. Well, I found it strange that his driver had a gun, but that was it."

"And did he say anything to you?"

Alex paused to think. "We spoke, but it's too long ago for me to remember exactly. I know I was asked to come into the bank to discuss my uncle's will, but that could have been Mr Crawley who said that."

"And what happened when you went to the bank?"

"Mr Crawley took me to his office – which was next to my uncle's - and left. I wanted to see my uncle's office, but it was locked, so I went through the window, instead. Mr Crawley burst back in soon after – as soon as I realised that it wasn't, in fact, a bank – and tranq-ed me. I woke up at a military base in Wales."

"And then what?"

"Blunt explained that my uncle was a spy and tried to persuade me to finish the mission that killed him. When I refused, he threatened to deport Jack – the woman who was going to look after me – and have me placed in a care home."

"And so you did the mission?"

"Yes."

"Would you have done the mission without Blunt threatening you?"

"No. I just wanted to go home."

The questions continued for what felt like an age, with occasional breaks to show evidence to support Alex's testimony. He was surprised by how much video documentation there was, but with cameras literally everywhere in the bank, he guessed he shouldn't have been.

And then, finally, "no more questions, your honour."

"Very well. Would the defence like to question the witness?"

"We would, your honour."

Alex had to try very hard not to groan.

"Have you been working for MI6 continuously since your uncle died?"

"No. There was a break when I was abducted by Yassen Gregorovich. After searching for me and not finding anything, MI6 assumed I was dead. Obviously, I was not working for them then."

"So you continued working for them, even after the death of Jack Starbright?"

Alex shifted.

"Yes, but-"

"And did MI6 have any input into your investigation into Damien Cray?"

"Well, no, but-"

"So you chose to take on that mission of your own free will?"

"I wasn't just going to let him blow up half the world!"

"A simple yes or no, would suffice, Mr Rider."

"Yes then."

"And when you were abducted from St Dominic's, my client had had no influence in your decision to pass yourself off as Paul Drevin?"

Being questioned by the defence was infinitely more stressful than being questioned by the prosecution, but he guessed he should have expected that. At last, even that was over, and he was allowed to slip away. He would not be needed for the rest of the trial, and despite his best efforts, the defence lawyer had failed to throw any doubt on the charges. There was no doubt of the verdict in Alex's mind. Blunt was as guilty as sin.

-o-O-o-

Three days later, Blunt was pronounced guilty and given a life sentence. Looking on paper, one would be surprised, but the charge of "child abuse" had covered a plethora of sins.

The day after that, the press got hold of the charges he was accused of. Alex really wanted to hurt whoever was responsible for that little – or not so little, really – fuck up. Sure, they didn't know it was him they should be looking for, but journalists, despite their best impressions otherwise, were not idiots and had successfully put two and two together to come up with 'child agent'.

With Child Exploitation, Blackmail and Child Abuse, as well as Aiding and Abetting Child Abuse, on the list of charges, it hadn't been that great a leap. Conspiracy theorists had taken over the web and snippets of video footage were flooding the net. Some of it was frankly ridiculous, but some of it, such as the three second clip of him parachuting through the museum roof during the whole Stormbreaker incident, was real. Alex was keeping his head down and hoping that he wasn't recognisable on any of them.

Well, 'keeping his head down' equated to hiding in the flat, but that didn't bother him. Yuri might have laughed at him, though. Just a bit.

"Are you seriously not going out, like, ever again?" asked the teen, finally recovering from the bout of hysterics he had collapsed into after hearing of Alex's brilliant plan.

"Nope. Never."

"Seriously?"

"Well, not until they've stopped printing stories about a bloody teenaged spy, at least."

"Coward!" called Wolf, from the kitchen.

"Oh, because you're so eager to go and explain the abduction charges!" Alex hollered back.

Wolf laughed, a full, rich, deep sound that warmed Alex slightly inside.

His own lips twitched in response and he had to quickly turn back to Yuri to stop himself from giving the kitchen door a dopey smile.

"When are you going to tell him?" asked Yuri, looking at Alex with a slightly strange expression that Alex couldn't quite decipher.

"Tell who what?" asked Alex completely nonplussed.

"Tell Wolf that you love him."

"What?" he yelped, "I don't-"

He broke off and glanced nervously at the open kitchen door. "Why would you think that?" he hissed.

Yuri let off a short bark of laughter. "Seriously? You worked for a terrorist organisation to stop him being hurt, you brought down _the head of MI6_ just to get him back, and you were just about to start smiling at inanimate objects because he laughed."

"That doesn't mean-!"

"That's exactly what it means," countered Yuri, with a grin. "Now suck it up and tell him!"

"Sod off," muttered Alex, throwing a cushion at his friend.

"What are you two talking about?" asked Wolf, returning to the living room with three drinks and a bowl of crisps precariously clasped in his two hands.

"Nothing much," replied the blond, as Wolf settled comfortably down next to him. He snagged a handful of crisps and passed a glass to Yuri before sitting back and cuddling up to the soldier's side.

Of course, if anyone were to put it like that, he would furiously deny it. He had a reputation to maintain after all.

Yuri's look was not helping. He was blatantly telling Alex 'you are so in love you're making me nauseous. Just tell him already'.

Yuri, it turned out, had oddly specific body language.

-o-O-o-

Later that night, when Yuri had returned home to Snake's, and had stopped plaguing Alex with more strangely exact looks, Alex finally had a chance to think.

Ok, so he would tear the world apart to find Wolf, he had killed to keep Wolf safe, and had taken punishment upon himself to spare the soldier pain. But that didn't mean he was in love! Did it?

OK, ok, no need to freak out. How did he feel about Wolf?

Well, he liked being around him. He felt happy when Wolf was happy, and the thought of Wolf in pain sent daggers through his insides.

The door opened and Wolf came into the bedroom.

"Hey," he smiled.

"Hey," echoed Alex, feeling a smile come to his lips unbidden and a surge of happiness well up inside him.

Oh, _oh_. He was screwed.

Ok, so he was in love. Maybe that wasn't so bad.

"James?" he said, hesitantly.

"Yeah?"

"I- Iloveyou," he blurted, after momentary hesitation.

"Sorry," said Wolf with a frown, "I didn't catch a word of that."

"I said… I said that… I love you."

Wolf's grin was blinding with intensity as he pulled Alex towards him and kissed him.

"I love you too."

Yeah, thought Alex as Wolf returned to kissing him enthusiastically, being in love was definitely not so bad.

_**-o-O-o-**_

_**So, what did you think? As always, reviews are much appreciated! **_


	26. Chapter 25

_**A/N: Have nothing really to say here, so moving swiftly on…**_

_**DISCLAIMER: Nothing you recognise belongs to me.**_

_**WARNINGS: Slash. Language. Violence. **_

-o-O-o-

Sometimes, Alex found it incredible that none of Snake, Eagle or Bear had cottoned on to the fact that James and Alex were, in fact, dating. Sure, their flat had two rooms, but it was patently obvious to anyone who so much as glanced in them where the two were sleeping. MI6 knew, and didn't seem to mind –excluding Blunt, who no longer belonged in that category anyway.

Of course, Mrs Jones had developed a lovely habit of turning scarlet to the roots of her hair whenever she saw them together, but he thought he could live with that. It would provide fantastic ammo if he ever wanted to embarrass her, at least, although he couldn't actually think of a situation where he would.

And he was currently getting fantastic ammo to embarrass Wolf with. The soldier was losing badly at a simple game of rummy.

The two had opted to spend a lazy Sunday morning in bed, celebrating the fact that for once they had neither a problem to fix nor an annoyance to get rid of, but Alex, not used to inactivity, had produced a pack of cards from somewhere and cajoled the still semi-slumbering Wolf into playing with him.

So far, Alex had won four games, and Wolf was starting to look suspicious.

"I swear that you're cheating," he muttered, eyeing the teen as he put on his best butter-wouldn't-melt look.

"Don't try that face with me," growled the soldier, playfully, leaning over to kiss the blond and nip reproachfully at his lips.

Alex grinned and kissed enthusiastically back, scattering cards everywhere.

"I'll shuffle this time," said Wolf, firmly, as Alex withdrew and began to gather up the deck.

Alex sighed. "Anyone would think you weren't cheating," he pouted.

Wolf gave him a bemused look. "I wasn't," he said, wryly.

Alex blinked at him. "Why on earth not? Everyone cheats at cards, if they can!"

Wolf raised an eyebrow. "What's the point of a game if you don't win on your own merit? And what do you mean _everyone_ cheats? The only person I've met who cheats at cards is Eagle – and you, I guess."

Alex yelped in protest. "_Eagle_ does not cheat. Eagle _tries_ to cheat and fails miserably. Cheating is a skill in and of itself! Everyone I've been on a mission with has cheated when playing!"

Wolf waved a hand dismissively. "Spies," he moaned, rolling his eyes. "You're all so messed up. Just stop cheating, yeah?"

"Ok," pouted Alex.

Wolf won the next game within three moves.

"You said no cheating!" accused Alex, pouting again.

"No," smirked Wolf. "I said _you_ couldn't cheat. I just thought I'd get a bit of my own back."

Alex growled and decided to show Wolf exactly what he thought of that idea.

-o-O-o-

Half an hour later, Alex, clad in a pair of baggy jeans hanging off his hips and an undone black shirt that he had grabbed off the floor, stumbled into the kitchen to make coffee and toast.

He shoved the bread in the machine and pulled out two plates, some jam and instant coffee before leaning against the counter and fingering the prominent hicky currently forming on his neck. He really was going to have to make Wolf pay for that. The man had far too many vampiric tendencies.

The kettle boiled and he quickly filled two mugs, only to pause when there was a knock on the door.

Curiously, he padded through the living room and pulled open the door to reveal two MI5 agents looking uncomfortable in the hallway.

"Alex Rider?" asked one. He had steel framed glasses on his otherwise non-descript face.

"Yes, how can I help you?" he asked.

"Would we be able to come in? This is not something we want to discuss in the hallway," said Glasses, obviously uneasy with the lack of cover provided in his current situation.

"Can I see some ID first?" asked Alex. The two agents nodded and handed over their badges amicably enough and Alex, once satisfied, stepped back to let them in.

"Alex, who is it?" called Wolf as he exited the bedroom.

"Two agents from MI5," Alex hollered back. Turning back to the agents, he indicated that they should sit down on the comfy chairs that had come with the flat.

"Would you like something to drink?" he asked.

"No, thank you. I don't think that is really appropriate," said Glasses. Neither of them had taken a seat.

"Oh," said Alex, frowning slightly. "So what is it I can help you with?"

"Alex Rider, you are under arrest on suspicion of being the culprit of the 'Shadow' murders."

Alex felt the world drop away from him and his stomach lurched as if he was falling. They were _arresting _him? This couldn't be happening. He'd finally gotten his life sorted out – he'd just moved in with Wolf and gotten everyone off his back and was supposed to be going back to school come September! They _couldn't _take all that away from him!

But apparently Glasses didn't feel the same way "Please place your hands together in front of you where we can see them."

"Alex…?" asked a shocked, pain-filled voice and the teen looked up to see Wolf's accusing gaze.

"Please tell me you didn't," whispered the soldier.

Alex was torn, unable to lie but unwilling to tell the truth. Either would hurt Wolf an incredible amount.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, finally. He wasn't – he'd do it all again if he had to – but that look on Wolf's face made him _want_ to be.

But then the, so far, silent agent was lunging towards him and he didn't have time to think anymore. He jerked back and lashed out with a kick to the man's chin. The agent fell unconscious instantly.

Glasses cursed and scrambled for his gun.

"Stay where you are!" he called, focusing the barrel on the teen's chest.

"Are you really going to shoot?" asked Alex, taking a step forward. "Shoot a teenager? Really? I mean, look at you. You've probably got kids, right?"

There was a splash of milk on his left pant leg. He at least had one child, a young one. And he hadn't bothered to change trousers, or hadn't noticed, so probably not the first. Judging from his age… Alex supressed a smile and took another step forward.

"I bet you've got a kid my age. How would you feel about someone holding them at gunpoint?"

The man was looking at Alex in horror, his fingers slack around the gun. Alex quickly stepped forward, the final step, and yanked it out of his loose grip.

He rapped the man sharply around the head with it, before he had time to react. Two for two.

Wolf was staring at him. Alex dropped the gun and took an involuntary step forward. Wolf backed away.

"James," pleaded Alex in a whisper. "James, please."

The soldier shook his head and took another step back. His face was filled with pain and, beneath that, something darker, something akin to disgust.

Alex closed his eyes.

"I still love you," he said, his voice cold and emotionless to hide the pain. "But, I guess sometimes that isn't enough."

He sprang forward and knocked the soldier unconscious with a blow to the temple. He didn't hit him hard. He should be awake in five minutes. He would have to hurry.

Quickly he gathered some things from his room and shoved them into a bag. He headed towards the door, then paused beside Wolf's sleeping form.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, pressing a kiss to unresponsive lips.

And then he was gone.

He knew he could never come back

-o-O-o-

_**A/N: Don't kill me! Please don't kill me! I posted the epilogue as well – you can go straight on and read that. No need to entertain violent thoughts!**_


	27. Epilogue

_**A/N: To those of you who just do what I do and click on the last chapter, I've actually UPLOADED TWO CHAPTERS. Go back one and read the previous one first or this won't make much sense!**_

_**DISCLAIMER: I own nothing you recognise.**_

_**WARNINGS: Slash. Language. Character death. Violence.**_

-o-O-o-

Yuri gazed at the group of squat grey buildings in front of him and grinned. He'd never been to school, before. Now, he was about to start sixth form, thanks to the relentless tutoring of Charlie Gray, and the constant nagging of Snake. He would never admit it, but sometimes it was nice to have someone worry about him, and want him to do normal things, like school and girlfriends (or boyfriends, as the case may be) and football. Admittedly, he wasn't particularly good at that last. Whenever they played, he normally won simply because he had no compunctions about cheating and scoring when Tom was lying, helpless with laughter, on the ground.

Of course, Tom then claimed that it didn't count, but Yuri was obviously right. Tom was just a sore loser. Since when weren't you allowed to use hands in football? The goalies did it all the time – he'd seen them!

A shout from somewhere off to the side caught his attention and he turned to see Tom running towards him. If possible, Yuri's smile widened as he greeted the other boy with a brief one-armed hug.

"Hey, Tom," he grinned.

"Hey," replied Tom. "Welcome to Brooklands! Nervous, at all?"

Yuri laughed. "A little. Everyone seems to complain about school so much!"

Tom smiled. "Don't worry, it's not that bad. Come on, I'll take you to Miss B. You've probably got some admin stuff to sort out."

Yuri gave another smile, but it quickly faded to melancholy.

"What's wrong?" asked Tom, cautiously.

"Nothing," muttered Yuri, scuffing at the ground with his foot. "It's just… I always thought Alex would be here with me, you know?"

"Yeah," mumbled Tom with a heartfelt sigh, glancing left at where their absent friend would no doubt have been standing. "I know. I miss him too."

-o-O-o-

"You cannot honestly tell me that _none_ of your agents have been able to find him!" shouted Ruskin. "It's been _months_ now."

"I don't think you quite understand," replied Mrs Jones, icily. "A- Rider was the best agent _we had ever had_. He _never_ failed a mission. He can disappear in an empty street. He was trained _from birth_ to be what he is."

"But you managed to follow him across to Russia when he went looking for that soldier friend of his – you have to be able to do something."

"Yes, when I knew what he wanted and could venture a guess as to who he was after. This time, his main objective is not to be caught – we don't stand a chance!"

"That is it. I'm issuing an international warning explaining exactly how dangerous he is," said Ruskin, sighing, wearily. "No doubt Interpol will issue a covert shoot-on-sight order."

Mrs Jones sighed. Alex needed help, but it was too late for that. He was too dangerous, to all of them.

-o-O-o-

The club smelled of sweat and stale beer and the chemical tang of over-sprayed deodorant. Everywhere, strobe lights flashed, nausea-inducing in the dark, and music blared in a loud, repetitive beat that set a painful counterpoint to the steady thump of the migraine he could feel forming behind his eyes. Bodies crowded everywhere and gave a claustrophobic feeling to the already unpleasant atmosphere.

No-one else seemed to mind, too drunk to care, but Wolf had found that the multiple pints he had downed had done nothing to lighten his melancholic mood. In fact, it had done the opposite, plunging him down into the black pits of depression.

Snake and Bear were lost somewhere in the sea of people on the dance floor. Eagle had disappeared right at the start of the night to entertain his girlfriend, Rachel. No doubt both of the others would have found some girl by the end of the night, although it was unlikely that Snake, ever the responsible one, would go home with her.

It seemed entirely unfair to Wolf, when they had been the ones that insisted he came out tonight in the first place. As a general rule, clubs weren't his thing. He much preferred to find a pub and maybe play a game of pool while having a relaxing pint. He liked to be able to hear himself think and to not have to work to navigate the room.

All he wanted right now was to abandon his ridiculously overpriced drink and return home.

Of course, as soon as he got there, he'd want to turn around and leave to escape from the silence. It was amazing how empty a flat could seem when the person you first lived there with had left.

Wolf growled as another ridiculous song came on over the speakers and stood up. Anything would be preferably to this.

He grabbed his jacket and began to shoulder his way through the crowd. He was half way to the door when he felt someone collide with his chest and fall back.

He mumbled a hasty apology and glanced up, only to find himself staring at a young man with startling blue eyes, sitting on the floor and rubbing his hip gingerly.

"Sorry," he muttered again, this time more sincerely and leant over to give the man a hand up.

The man flashed him a cheeky smile and shouted something that was lost in the din.

"I can't hear you!" shouted Wolf, gesturing to his ears with one hand.

The man used the other hand – which he still had a hold of, Wolf suddenly realised – to manoeuvre himself closer and speak directly into Wolf's ear.

"I said I'll let you off if you buy me a drink!"

A startled laugh burst out of Wolf's lips at the forthright reply and he paused in consideration.

Part of him desperately didn't want to. But that same part also really didn't want to return to an empty flat where everything from the cutlery to the furniture reminded him of Alex. And he hadn't been with anyone since the blond had left. And wasn't this exactly the reason his friends had dragged him out?

And he had knocked the guy over.

"Alright then," he said, and the young man grinned.

The least he could do was to buy him a drink.

-o-O-o-

Alex carefully tensed and relaxed his legs, lying perfectly still on the grey cement. It was a hot day, the last of the summer burning itself out as the year inevitably progressed to autumn and then winter, but he'd been here since the cool grey hours of dawn, lying perfectly still and unnoticed.

Soon, he would be finished, and he could disappear into the crowds of teenagers just leaving school – underneath his grey hoody he was wearing the standard thin white shirt that all schools in the area chose. Few would realise that he was far from an ordinary school boy.

In front of him, supported on three thin tripod legs, was the sniper rifle he had found and stolen all those months ago, in what seemed like another life. In a way, he guessed it was. Back then, he never would have thought of pursuing this career, but he had found it paid to play to one's skills, and no one could deny that he was good at this.

Already, he had a small fortune, that he never spent, resting in various bank accounts around the world, and he had another hit lined up for the end of the week, in Edinburgh.

This one wasn't for money though. This one was for himself.

Below him, a bell rang and slowly men in grey overalls began to file despondently into a courtyard surrounded by walls and armed guards.

Carefully, he shifted forward to look down the scope of the rifle in front of him. He found his target and focused the cross hairs.

His breathing slowed, and just for a moment the world seemed to hold its breath with him.

He pulled the trigger.

Below, blood bloomed on Alan Blunt's chest and the courtyard descended into chaos.

Later, the doctors would identify that the bullet had been precisely one inch to the left of the man's heart, in exactly the same place as a comparatively innocent boy had once been shot, and lived. But Blunt did not have the near-miraculous healing powers of youth.

He would not survive.

_Fin_

-o-O-o-

_**A/N: You all hate me right about now, don't you? There is a sequel planned (actually, there's two or three sequels planned) and I promise that there may, eventually, prossibly be a happy ending for Alex and Wolf, but I couldn't have Alex getting off for everything he's done. Most likely, had he been arrested, he would have been sent to a mental hospital until he was less likely to go on a mass murdering spree, but yeah, Alex wouldn't let them arrest him. So. Yeah.**_

_**Anyways, sequel takes place about 5 years after this… if I get enough interest, I'll try and have it started before the end of the year.**_

_**Review and tell me what you thought?**_


	28. Author's Note

_**A/N: Just so you all know, the Sequel to this has been posted. It's called Reincarnation and currently has two chapters posted. :)**_


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